Black Swan
by kelsey-alt
Summary: Rowdy and rambunctious Bella has been in trouble with the law in Phoenix one too many times. When Renee sends her to live with estranged Charlie, strange things begin to happen to her. What secrets has Renne been hiding? OOC. Vamps/Wolves/Humans. Rated M for Bella's sassy sailor mouth.
1. Chapter 1

Black Swan Chapter One

Chapter One- Desert Sky

The Phoenix night was warm as Bella rode around on her Mac Ruby motorcycle, a gift from her step-dad, Phil. The hint of a chill made itself known as she sped through the streets feeling carefree and alive. She shifted gears, feeling the vibrations of the rebuilt engine as she gained speed, reeling in the feel of the wind on her face, and knotting her hair as it whipped around behind her. Her Black Flag t-shirt clung to her front and flared out behind her, cut-off Daisy Dukes molded to her like a second skin. Her pride and joy pair of over-the-knee boots completed the 'I-don't-give-a-rat's-ass' look. Nothing could make this late night cruise seem like anything less than wonderful… nothing, that is, except for red and blue flashing lights that lit up from behind the billboard that served as a hiding spot for Troopers and Phoenix PD alike.

"Shit," she muttered to herself as she downshifted and pulled over to the shoulder.

After checking her plate number, the officer stepped out of his car and approached his target.

"Ma'am, do you know how fast I clocked you going?" the officer asked.

"Last time I checked, I was at 95, _sir_," Bella replied off-handedly.

"Yes, well, the posted speed limit around here is 75. Did you know that in the state of Arizona, penalties for speeding include a ticket not to exceed two-thousand dollars and/or time in jail?"

"Yes, _sir_, I think I did hear that somewhere," Bella drawled, not bothering to feign interest.

"I'll need to see your license, Miss," the officer, who was used to getting fear or respect from his traffic stop encounters, was becoming more and more frustrated by the second.

After a quick scan of Bella's license through the database computer in his Tahoe, the officer sped through Bella's steadily growing rap sheet before heading back out to issue her punishment.

" Well, well, Miss Swan, it seems you have quite the list of offenses," the officer said upon his approach of her vintage motorcycle. "Speeding, Minor in Consumption, Public Nudity, Disturbing of the Peace… just to name a few."

"Can't blame a girl for partying…" Bella mumbled.

"How's about you slip these pretty little bracelets on," he said, his face smug, as he lifted up the handcuffs from their holster on his belt. "We'll see how snarky you are after some time locked up."

_Renee's going to _kill _me for this one… _Bella thought as she was escorted into the back of the police vehicle. "Straw that broke the camel's back…"

* * *

><p>"Isabella Marie Swan!" Renee yelled through the Phoenix Police Department.<p>

"Cool it, _Mom_," Bella seethed, teeth clenched, massaging her wrists where the cuffs had just been removed.

"I will _not_ 'cool it,' young lady!" Renee continued. "You're supposed to be in your room- _grounded_ no less- and I get woken up at 2:45 in the morning because of a phone call from an Officer Huerta telling me my _minor _is in _jail_ for going twenty miles an hour over the speed limit on the bike she's _not even supposed to be driving_! Have I missed anything yet?"

Bella gave her mother a hard look and said nothing.

"And _I'm_ the one who has to come post your bail!" Renee continued. "Thirty-five _hundred_ dollars, Bella? Really? I swear: I don't know what to do with you anymore! You don't go to school, _won't_ listen to me or your step-father… You got a tattoo less than a month ago, for Christ's sake!"

"In my defense, Mom, how do you live in Phoenix for close to eighteen years without getting a tattoo in commemoration?" Bella asked, fingering the dark silhouette of the eternal bird on the back of her neck.

"I can't control you!" her mother concluded. "I'm not exactly a follow-everything-by-the-book kind of person, Bella, but this is so far beyond anything normal, _rational_… I can't keep living like this. I refuse."

"So what," Bella laughed, "Are you going to throw me out on the street now? 'Let's scrap this one, hopefully the bun I have in the oven right now will turn out better?' I'm your daughter; you're my parent. You're stuck with me."

"No," Renee began again, her voice lower and calmer, though sounding more threatening than before when she was yelling. "You're going to live with your father. I will not bring another child into the world in such a stressful environment. Hopefully Charlie will have better luck at dealing with you."

Bella sat there in shock. Surely Renee was bluffing: sending her only daughter to live with a man she barely knew? Hell, Charlie hadn't even met Bella until she was almost three-years-old. Renee had run off eight and a half months up the spout and that was that. Bella had visited Charlie two weeks every summer and for Thanksgiving from ages three to twelve, but that had stopped once Renee got remarried five years ago. Bella knew practically nothing about her father, other than that he was the Chief of Police in some Podunk town in Washington and that he liked to fish.

Her shock made her practically catatonic. She didn't register that Renee had put her into the passenger side of her truck, nor did she feel the bounce of the suspension when her motorcycle was loaded into the truck bed from the impound lot. She didn't really even acknowledge the fact that she was packing her scarce belongings into an Army-style duffle bag and back pack as Renee and Phil watched on. It wasn't until she stood at the gate, boarding pass in hand, that Bella snapped out of the funk she was in and started pleading with Renee. It fell on deaf ears, though. At 7:45, Christmas Eve morning, Isabella Marie Swan said goodbye to the only home she ever knew and headed to uncertainty in Forks, Washington.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two- Rain, _Lovely_...

As I sat in my new room at Charlie's house in Forks, BFE, Washington, I took a moment to figure out how I got to this point in my life; really, it could all be blamed on Renee. My _mother_, if you could even call her that anymore, started me on the road leading towards the dead end I'm currently at before I was even out of the womb. She packed up and left her husband five months after their shotgun wedding and raised me in a slew of shabby rental houses and apartments while going through a large number of shady boyfriends before she found Phil.

Then, after she and Phil got married, they screwed like rabbits hoping to pop out a little heathen. They kept encouraging me to go out with friends to the mall or wherever, so long as they could have the house to themselves for a few hours. It's not my fault I've had a hard time relating to girls my own age and instead chose to spend my time with guys at a local mechanic shop. In fact, it was because of that that Phil decided to get me a vintage Mac Ruby for my sixteenth birthday. I upgraded everything myself, making her a top-of-the-line, one-of-a-kind performance machine. I named her and everything… but now Sadie's sitting back at the shop that gave her new life with a 'For Sale' sign sitting on her, much to my chagrin. It'll be a miracle if I can convince Keith, the shop owner, to ship her up here for me without Renee finding out… not that I'll ever be talking to her again.

Charlie basically read me the Riot Act when he picked me up from the airport in his cruiser. I have the rest of Christmas break to get settled before I start school at good old Forks High. If I can prove to him in that time frame that I'm 'responsible enough,' he'll help me buy a car, so that I don't have to rely on him for transportation. Oh well, I guess I better start laying on the charm so I don't have to show up to FHS in Charlie's cruiser every morning…

I have to admit it: living with Charlie doesn't look like it's going to be so bad. He's sizing up to be more like an older, male roommate than a father. Honestly, if it weren't for the matching last names, you wouldn't even know we were related. I've got relatively tan skin, not to mention how dark I am from the year-round Phoenix sun. Charlie, on the other hand, is pretty pale. That could be because no real sunlight gets through the impenetrable clouds that hover above this part of Washington, though. Then there's my waist-length wavy mahogany hair, courtesy of mommy dearest, and my dark but surprisingly deep brown doe eyes. Charlie's eyes are brown, as well, but his are much lighter than my own.

Christmas day, Charlie's friend Billy Black came over with his son Jacob. I remembered Jacob from my few summer visits; we'd always get lumped together whenever our fathers wanted to hang out. I was a little bit older than Jake, though only by six months. I decided to feel him out, to see if he's turned out to be a chump or not. The kid's built like a brick wall! He had to be at least 6'4" or taller, and if I didn't know better I'd have said he was at least twenty-two.

"Hey Jake," I said as we all sat down to watch TV. "Long time, no see, huh?"

"Sure, sure, it's been a while," he responded dismissively.

_Hmm, _I thought. _What crawled up his ass?_

After a decisively stern look from his dad, Jake willingly continued the conversation I had started. We talked about nothing of consequence for a good hour. I found out he likes to tinker around in the garage and actually rebuilt the motor in an old Chevy truck's engine. I also found out that he's a junior, like me, but that he goes to school on the reservation.

"That's too bad, you know?" I said off-handedly. "That you go to school on the rez."

Jacob got defensive for a moment, spouting off all this mumbo jumbo about white people not knowing anything about cultural pride, and how much of an honor it was to go to the Rez School, before I could put a word in edgewise.

"Geez, Jake," I finally interrupted. "Don't go all Native superior on me! I was just saying that it's too bad… _because_ it'd have been nice to know at least one person coming into a new school."

He had the decency to look ashamed after I put him in his place, even appearing to have the faintest of blushes on his high cheekbones for a fraction of a second. I might have imagined that, though…

* * *

><p>I spent the rest of Christmas break trying to charm Charlie into a little leniency. True to his word, Keith got my bike shipped up to me without Renee's knowledge; Charlie, however, was not about to let 'his baby girl' ride around on a 'death machine.'<p>

"Char—Dad," I'd begun as Sadie was being lowered down from the truck she rode in on, "I've been riding Sadie here for over a year. I rebuilt her myself, I know exactly how to work her and I'm completely brushed up on the motorcycle safety laws in the state of Washington."

"Do you also know that motorcycle accidents have a significantly higher rate of fatality than normal automotive accidents?" he countered.

"If it'll make you feel better, I'll buy a helmet," I offered.

He looked like he wasn't going to budge, so I decided to pull out all the stops.

"Daddy," I said as sweetly as possible, "my entire life has been one series of upsets after another. This bike keeps me grounded. It's the only link I have to Phoenix—my home—and it's the only thing I've asked of you since I arrived here two weeks ago. I promise to buy a helmet and abide by every speed limit… please?"

Finally, after what seemed like forever, he grunted and nodded his assent.

"Fine," he said. "You can keep it for now… BUT, if any one of my deputies clocks you at even a single mile over the speed limit, you can say goodbye to that thing."

I squealed in happiness—something I don't ever do. I couldn't help it.

"Thank you! Thank you!" I jumped around in a circle with my arms in the air.

"Uhh, yeah," Charlie said awkwardly, "you're welcome. School starts tomorrow, so get a helmet today. And, uh, call Jacob, he was looking for you earlier."

* * *

><p>"Wow, Bella," Jake said after I pulled up to the barn he called a garage and dismounted Sadie, "I didn't know you rode a motorcycle!"<p>

"Yeah," I sighed, "it's a shocker to everyone."

"No, no," he was quick to recover, "it suits you; it's just, the girls up here are all about the latest VW Beetle or a little bitty car. You're sure going to shake things up tomorrow."

"Oh, great," I grumbled. "Whatever; do you know where to get a good helmet around here? Charlie's insisting I get one."

"Newton's Outfitters is about the only place within forty miles that would sell anything like what you're probably looking for. I'll show you where it is."

"You going to ride bitch behind me?" I asked with a smile.

"Definitely not," Jake said immediately. "You didn't think you're the only one on two wheels around here, did you?"

Jake's 'two wheels' ended up being a glorified dirt bike, but he'd apparently saved it from the dump and put a good three months into making it a performance machine. I followed him from La Push back toward Forks, stopping at the overly large camping and outdoor store at the edge of town.

We split ways at the automatic sliding doors, Jake to look at some fishing shit and me to the expo area that showcased ATVs. I was looking at some of the off roaders nonchalantly for less than a minute when an overly eager boy came up to me asking if he could help me in _any way_. I laughed at the way his blue eyes brightened and he looked down to my chest when he said 'any way,' but decided to play along for a minute.

"Well, thank you! Mike?" I said sweetly, looking to the blonde's nametag before returning to my normal voice. "I'm looking for a full-face, flip up motorcycle helmet, preferably with Bluetooth if you have any in stock. I'm partial to Shark, but really any in black will do for the time being."

He looked gob smacked at my request, but quickly recovered and mumbled something under his breath before turning away to the back room, his cheeks blazing red. _Great,_ I thought,_ I just gave him a new entry for the spank bank._

Mike returned quickly with three boxes. Each held a helmet that adhered to my specifications, so the decision came down to fit and whether I wanted a shiny or matte finish. Mike made small talk as I tried on the first helmet.

"So, I haven't seen you in town," he began. "Are you from here or just passing through?"

"Oh god," I said, taking off the helmet, which was a bit too big. "Is this one of those towns where everybody knows everybody?"

"Hah, sort of," he replied. "Are you from Port Angeles? Or Seattle?"

"No," I said, taking the second helmet out of the box. "I'm from Phoenix, or I guess I was. Now, I'm here."

The second helmet fit, but the third had the finish I wanted: matte black. Jake rounded the corner as I pulled the last helmet out of the box, placing it on my head.

"What do you think, Jake?" I asked, flipping the visor up.

"Looking good, Bells," he replied, giving me a thumbs up.

Taking the winner off, I looked back to Mike, whose face had paled immediately upon Jacob's arrival.

"I think this one's the winner," I said, pulling him out of whatever stupor he was in. "Can you ring me up?"

"Of course," he said, taking the helmet and leading Jake and me to the registers.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," Jake said, fingering the phoenix on my neck that was temporarily unconcealed as I ruffled my hair.

"Yeah, just don't tell Charlie," I said. "He doesn't need to know all of my secrets just yet."

"You're Charlie Swan's daughter?" Mike asked, astonished as he scanned the barcode on the helmet's box.

"Ahh shit, this _is_ one of those towns where everybody knows everybody!"

* * *

><p>Jake and I hung out for a few more hours until Billy came out to remind us that school started back in the morning. He was great company, and I discovered we had a lot of things in common. I was glad I could hang out with him; I was even gladder that it seemed I had a friend in this godforsaken place.<p>

The ride back to Charlie's was exhilarating. The air was crisp, which was something I was going to have to get used to, but I wasn't cold. I felt refreshed as I set down the kickstand and headed up the front porch steps, like maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: If you enjoyed my story so far, rec it and let me know! Looking to start updating once a week, probably on Sundays.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

I woke up bleary-eyed to my alarm Monday morning. Although the curtains were wide open, no sun streamed through. Sadly, I remembered I still wasn't in Phoenix. The sun was a rarity here in Washington. I went through my morning routine, washing my hair and brushing my teeth before putting some mascara onto my already full, long eyelashes. I pulled my long hair into a fishtail braid in the hopes that it wouldn't get a huge crease from the helmet that way. I grabbed a pair of holey jeans, a tight tank and my leather bomber jacket, and then finished the ensemble with some chucks.

The ride to Forks High was only about five minutes, even obeying the thirty-five mile per hour speed limit, so I went downstairs and toasted some bread before slapping on some peanut butter and cinnamon sugar. Charlie came down soon after I did and reminded me that I needed to get to school with enough time to stop by the front office to collect my schedule, so I shoved the rest of the toast in my mouth and grabbed my backpack and helmet. I headed off toward the unrelenting monotony I was sure Forks High would be.

The parking lot was mostly full by the time I pulled in to the lot. I parked Sadie diagonally in a spot at the front. Kids were hanging out by their cars and trucks, mostly older models that had seen better days. Talking in the group nearest me ceased as I took off my helmet and shook out my hair, pulling it out of the braid to let my natural waves air-dry. I looked over to the group, noticing blonde Mike from yesterday among them, so I nodded recognition before turning to head up the steps.

"Isabella!" I heard, Mike yell, breaking away from the group to walk next to me. A brunette girl with frizzy hair looked displeased at that; I shot her a smile in an attempt to let her know I wasn't a threat to her boy territory, but her sour face remained constant and I couldn't be bothered to reassure her further.

"Hey, I was wondering if you needed help finding any of your classes?" Mike asked hopefully.

"I actually don't know what classes I have yet, but thanks," I told him.

"Oh! Can I show you to the office?" He persisted. "I can wait for you to get your schedule and then show you where everything is."

"Look, Mike," I began, "you seem like a pretty level guy, but I've already got enough people looking over my life and I just don't need another one."

"So, you and that Reservation kid are together?" Mike asked out of left field.

"What?" I asked, befuddled. "No, wait; I don't care where you got that idea."

I shrugged, pulling my backpack further up my spine, and stepped away from him towards the door to the office that I was approaching.

"You should go back to the brunette in the parking lot," I said, by way of dismissal, "I'm sure she's missing you."

Mike's response was cut off and muffled as I closed the door to the cramped administrative office. It didn't look very professional: there was no overhead lighting, only lamps scattered here and there. The lamp on the small desk was covered in a red silk scarf or some shit, casting a red glow on the equally redheaded secretary that was shoveling papers around her desk, apparently trying to look busy.

She looked up over her cat-eye glasses surreptitiously before gawking at me. I guess the mental image of the Chief of Police's daughter was supposed to be dainty and demure, which I was definitely not. The woman—Mrs. Cope, as her nameplate indicated—recovered herself after a moment and assumed the position of someone who wanted to show they had authority. _Trust me, lady_, I wanted to say to her, _I've dealt with people like you for a while now. Your prostrating doesn't affect me in the least._

"You must be," she began, before looking down at her papers, "Isabella Swan: Daughter of Charlie and Renee Swan, age seventeen, classification: Junior."

"Dwyer," I said, continuing when she looked confused. "It's Renee Dwyer, not Swan."

"Yes, well," she started. "Here are your classes and a map of the school. This is a small, close-knit education community, so if you have any troubles finding anything, just ask anyone. You'll also need to get your teachers to sign this piece of paper," she pointed with a fake nail to a blue slip of paper, "and hand it back to me at the end of the day. Do you have any questions?"

"Do I need a parking permit? Is there off-campus lunch? When is school over?" I rattled off.

"Cars and trucks need permits, but scooters and bicycles," she looked to my helmet, "do not. There is no—"

"I do _not_ have a _scooter_ or a bicycle," I spat. "I have a _motorcycle_, so if I need a permit for that, give me the paperwork to fill out."

"Oh, uh, yes…" she stuttered. "_Of course_ you do… well, I'll need you to fill this out, and in answer to your previous questions, no students are allowed to leave the campus during the school day unless it is for a doctor's appointment or some other school sanctioned event. Classes let out for the day at three-forty."

"Great," I muttered as I took the stack of papers from her and left the office.

I looked to the clock mounted from the ceiling of the hallway and discovered I had five minutes to make it to my first class which was, looking down at my schedule, English. I took my time getting to class, arriving at Mr. Berty's door just as the bell rang. Everybody was already at their desks. I felt like I was stepping up to the auction block as I handed the blue slip to Mr. Berty to sign.

"Class, this is Isabella Swan—" he said.

"Just 'Bella,'" I corrected.

"Yes, okay then, Bella, would you like to tell the class a little about yourself?" he asked in a way that made it seem less like a question and more like a demand.

"No, thanks," I responded, grabbing the slip of his desk and sitting down in an empty seat.

He looked dumbfounded for a minute, but then collected himself and taught the class without another glance to me. I was glad I had already read the book he was assigning for the rest of the semester: A Tale of Two Cities. We were to do an in depth analysis of the story and the characters, something I had been assigned in Phoenix the year before. If all of my classes were like this, it'd shape up to be a pretty awesome semester.

Government and trig passed in much the same fashion, although I wasn't asked to provide any personal information. I met the frizzy haired girl from the parking lot, who seemed to have outwardly changed her attitude about me and practically dragged me to sit next to her in trig. Her name was Jessica and she told me about every mundane thing happening in the school. This bitch was shaping up to look like the town gossip. She asked questions here and there, trying to glean information about my life before Forks and whether or not I had a boyfriend before I moved.

"Look, I 'm not interested in that Mike kid," I told her under my breath. "I know that's what you're really asking, so there's your answer. Now, I'm trying to pay attention so I don't flunk out of this Podunk school, so that's what I'll be doing for the rest of class.

Jessica looked a little taken aback by my bluntness, but recovered and smiled at me before turning to another girl named Angela and talking with her for the rest of the class. Angela turned out to be a sweet girl and offered to walk with me to Spanish, since she had it next as well. She didn't push me for information, nor did she babble incessantly. She seemed quiet and a little shy, but she was nice and if I had any desire to have a girl friend, I think I'd look to her.

The bell rang for lunch and as I got up from my desk, Angela softly offered to show me where the cafeteria was and said that there was room at her table if I wanted to sit there.

"I remember moving to Forks when I was in the third grade," she said. "It would have been nice if I'd had a friend. I spent the first day sitting at a table by myself because I was too scared to ask anyone if I could sit with them. I'm sure you're not like that, but I think it's nice to have the offer nonetheless."

"Thanks, Angela," I said, and I meant it.

Angela had brought her lunch, so I was on my own to see what passed for food up here. The cafeteria line was full of some sad looking chili, some PB and J's, pizza swimming in grease and a sort of crisp looking boxed salad. I decided to go with the salad, grabbing lemonade as well before paying and turning to join up with Angela at her table.

The table had filled up with some jock-looking boys, including Mike, as well as some slutty looking girls, including Jessica. Angela seemed to stick out as a 'goody-two-shoes' among the group. I had a Mean Girls moment as I took in the rest of the tables and laughed a little under my breath when I realized I was about to sit down at the quintessential 'popular kids' table. I think I'd rather set Sadie down on her side than eat lunch with these people, but I felt like I owed something to Angela for being so sweet.

"Hey," I said, sitting down.

"Guys, this is Bella Swan," Jessica said like we were best friends. "Bella, this is Mike, Tyler, Ben, Eric and Lauren. You already know me and Angela."

"Yeah, sure, hi," I said.

I scanned the area again, now that the cafeteria had filled up. Jessica was already balls-deep in some scandalous story that I couldn't be bothered to listen to. I was almost done with my perusal when I spotted the whitest kids I'd ever seen. _Oh god, _I thought,_ Am I going to get that pale from living here?_

"…And my mom said that Sean's father went into the clinic over the weekend to get treated for Chlamydia!" Jessica exclaimed. "He's obviously cheating on his wife."

"Sounds interesting," I said sarcastically. "Who are those people?"

Jessica followed my eye line to the pale kids, all of whom were staring off into nowhere or pushing their food around.

"Those are the Cullens," Jessica said conspiratorially. "They moved here from Alaska last year. Doctor and Mrs. Cullen are really young, but they adopted them as teenagers because Mrs. Cullen can't have kids. The big one is Emmett and the little dark haired girl is Alice; they're actually siblings. The blonde ones are twins, Rosalie and Jasper. They're related to Dr. Cullen somehow, but they were orphaned. And get this: they're together; like, _together_, together: Rosalie and Emmett; Jasper and Alice. How weird is that? The younger guy with the coppery hair—that's Edward. He's Mrs. Cullen's nephew. He's the only single one out of the bunch, but I wouldn't try anything if I were you; no one here is good enough for him."

It was obvious by her tone at the end that she had been one of those deemed 'not good enough' and I chuckled as I thought through an imagined scene of Jessica throwing herself at this Edward guy's feet. I looked back toward the table this time to find said Edward staring hard at me. He looked like he was mad at me, or something, which was bullshit because I hadn't done anything to offend him that I knew of. I stared back for a second, not backing down, before flipping him the finger and shoving off from the table to head to my next class. The big guy, Emmett saw my gesture and boomed out a hearty laugh as I left the room.

I got a little turned around trying to find the science building for Biology, not that I would have admitted that to anyone. I ended up walking into the classroom half a minute after the bell rang. Mr. Banner was not very pleased to have me as an interruption to his 'welcome back to class' speech, but he signed my slip like the rest and told me to sit at the only spot left in the back.

When I turned to look for the mythical seat, I saw it… next to the asshole that was staring at me in the cafeteria. As I sat down next to Edward Cullen, he immediately shifted away from me. I bet if he could, he'd be burrowing into the cinderblock wall to escape.

"What's your problem?" I asked angrily.

I noticed his dark eyes were looking at me, but not in my eyes. Did I have some leaf or something in my hair from this morning? He didn't respond to my question.

"Whatever," I said offhandedly. "Your dickishness is refreshing after all of the kiss-asses today."

He still didn't respond so I took the 'fuck it' mentality and ignored him back. Through my ignoring the oddly good-looking deaf-mute to my immediate left, I found out I'd already covered the course back in Phoenix.

_Score another one for the Swan! _I thought.

When I chanced another look at the idiot sitting next to me, it appeared he was trying to become one with the wall. He was literally pushing himself into the wall as if he could recede into it like some sort of superhero. Super _villain_, I corrected myself. No superhero would look so angry all the time. Except, the Hulk, maybe. I snorted at the thought; the sound got me an angry glare from Mr. Grumpy.

As soon as class was over, Mr. Grumpy jetted out of his seat faster than I would have thought possible. _Psycho, _I thought, dismissing him as I headed to Gym. The coach didn't make me dress out, which was awesome, seeing as how I had no athletic clothes to change into.

At the end of the day, I ended up back where I'd begun: making my way towards the front office. I was itching to return my blue slip and get out of here. Maybe I could ride over to La Push and drag Jake out on his bike with me? I normally preferred riding solo, but Jake was good company.

As I opened the door to the office, my happy thoughts of wind and road died upon sight of a coppery-haired asshat. Edward Cullen was apparently trying to seduce Mrs. Cope.

"If there's anything else available, and I mean anything, I'll take it," Edward said seductively.

He was leaning over her desk at a proximity far too close to be considered appropriate. Mrs. Cope was blushing and looked overheated.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she said, sounding genuinely regretful, "but nothing else is available. You'll just have to stay in Biology."

This kid was trying to switch classes halfway through the year? I had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with me, ridiculous as that sounded. Edward took a quick breath that was cut off just after it started. He turned to look at me, the same outrage he exhibited in class still apparent in his eyes. _Okay, this is definitely about me,_ I thought, _but what the hell did I do?_

"Fine," he growled at Mrs. Cope. He grabbed his jacket and stormed past me through the door.

"Well, that was weird," I said, handing my slip into the secretary with little finesse.

Obviously still flustered, she muttered a 'thank you' as I turned to leave.

As I walked out towards my beloved Sadie, I clicked the Bluetooth on, connecting my helmet to my phone. A silver car sped out of the parking space next to me, almost clipping Sadie as it did.

"Dial _Jake_," I said, once I had put the helmet on. The speakers inside confirmed with a proper sounding British woman's voice: "_Dialing Jake_" and a moment later, the ringing started.

Jake picked up on the third ring with a groggy "hello" and, after some teasing and bickering, he agreed to be ready to go riding by the time I made it to La Push.

The ride up the one-oh-one was thrilling and just what I needed to clear my head from the funk it was in. When we made it back to La Push near sunset, I was practically euphoric; that was, until Jake had to go screw it all up.

"So what prompted the long ride, Bells?" he asked.

I scowled at him and, without answering, walked toward the barn that doubled as a garage and hangout space, plopping down on an old futon.

"What?" Jake asked, sitting down next to me. "I was just wondering… today was your first day at Forks High, right?"

"Right," I grumbled. "Why can't I just go to school with you? Then I wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit."

Jake laughed. "You know you're not dark enough to come to the Rez School," he joked. "So tell me what's up. Maybe I can help?"

"Ugh, fine!" I sighed, even though I really _did_ want to talk about it, if only to get it off my chest. "Everyone is so 'small-town'! Everybody knows everybody's business, so naturally it made everyone want to know mine. Well, I don't want to air all my shit out to dry."

"It'll calm down after a week or so," Jake offered.

"Well, that's mildly reassuring, but that's not even the most frustrating part! This guy was in my Biology class—"

"Oh, figures this is about a _boy_," Jake rolled his eyes.

"Oh, shut up," I said, shoving his shoulder, though you'd never know since he didn't even move at all. "This guy—who is a total dickwad, by the way—had the only free seat in class next to him. So I go to sit down and he freaking _glares_ at me like I've done something to personally offend him! It was like I spit on his mother or something."

Jake busted out laughing at that analogy as I continued.

"So _then_, I have to turn this slip in to the secretary at the end of the day and the _same guy_ is in there trying to get his classes switched so he can _get out of that class_! I mean, what the hell, right?"

"Maybe it's because you smell so bad?" Jake offered, sniggering.

"Whatever," I dismissed him. "So then he realized I was there and stopped sweet talking the poor lady, stared me down and walked out without so much as a 'fuck you, very much.'"

"Geez, this guy sounds like a total tool," Jake said, and I couldn't help but agree, although 'dickwad' was still in first place for names to call him. "What's this guy's name, anyway? I'll go teach him a lesson or something."

"Edward," I told him, sneering, "Edward Cullen."

Jake's expression sobered up immediately, taking me by surprise. When he spoke, his voice was low and eerily serious.

"You need to stay away from him, Bella," he said, sounding like a protective brother.

"Oh, okay," I said dismissively, trying to lighten the mood again.

"I'm serious, Bells, he's no good. Same goes for the rest of his family, just steer clear of all of them."

"Well, it's going to be kind of hard, seeing as how he's my biology partner, but trust me when I say I won't be looking to spend any more time than necessary with Dickward Cullen."

* * *

><p>We talked for another half-hour or so about cars and other inconsequential stuff, and while Jake remained a little guarded, his natural happy-go-lucky approach to life had me feeling good as well. When Jake deemed me 'happy enough,' I climbed on my bike and cruised home on the winding forest road, not quite able to shake the feeling that I was being watched. However, the road was deserted—apart from Sadie and me—and I chocked the feeling up to the area still feeling foreign to me.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**ALICE POV-**

I had never personally seen Edward in such a tizzy. Even the first time we physically met, after I had moved all of his things out of his room and made it into mine while he was away hunting, he hadn't been so up in arms.

My visions had been a bit haywire and random for the past few weeks, but never could I have foreseen Edward needing to up and leave the family. To find out that it was all because of a girl who had just moved into town was even more disconcerting. I should have _seen_ this. She had been assigned to his class; there was no way of avoiding contact between them. And she was his singer, too! I should have _seen_!

He came out from the main office after school. Rosalie was mad at having to wait for him. A vision struck me, evoking within me a great sorrow. Jasper noticed, of course, so attuned to my emotions. Although he was my mate and my one true love, I was also deeply connected to my telepathic brother. Our bond was incredibly strong; our gifts gave us the opportunity to have completely silent conversations.

"You can't leave!" I pled with him as he joined the rest of the family. He ignored me, opening his Volvo and piling in the driver's seat as we all remained where we stood.

A vision flashed before my eyes, imminent. Rosalie was about to say something terribly rude that would make Edward even madder and prolong his stay away. The future aligned with the present a second later.

"I guess we're on Edward-time," she remarked. "You're such a prima donna. You make everyone wait for you and then it's _us_ who need to hurry up?"

"Shut up, Rosalie," he ground out. "Get in or run home, it makes no difference to me."

As we climbed in, another vision flashed of Rose taking her own car tomorrow. _Good, _I thought, _but it won't matter anyway because Edward won't be here._

_I didn't _see_ anything, Edward, what happened?_

A vision flashed of Edward explaining his predicament.

"Your singer?" I gasped aloud.

"What's going on?" Emmett asked.

"Edward encountered his singer!" I said, astonished.

"And you didn't kill her, man?" Emmett asked. "You've got some serious control."

"I almost killed her," Edward admitted, gripping the steering wheel tight enough to leave permanent marks. We were rapidly approaching home.

"But you _didn't_," I reminded him. "So, there's no reason you should have to leave!"

"Alice," Edward growled. He turned into our secluded driveway.

"How long will you be gone?" I asked, giving up.

"You know that I don't know that yet."

Edward parked in the circular drive, intending on packing and visiting Carlisle at the hospital before going to Denali.

"How did you do it, bro?" Emmett asked. He had encountered two singers since he had been turned; neither of them made it out alive.

"I planned it," Edward admitted. "I would have killed every child in that room just to get her alone. I looked to see what she was thinking… what her last thoughts would be… and I couldn't."

"You couldn't?" I asked, surprised.

"I couldn't," he told the group. "I tried at lunch, as well, when Jessica Stanley was telling her our cover story. I couldn't hear her then, either, but I wasn't sure if it was just because of the amount of people in the room; some people have quiet thoughts. Regardless, it snapped me out of my red haze long enough to stop my breathing and come to my senses. I couldn't do that to the family, to Carlisle. I need to go."

My brother snapped around and sped up the stairs to his room. A second later, the sounds of drawers opening and clothes being placed into a suitcase began.

I retired to my room, Jasper following and offering silent comfort. We lay down on our large bed; my mate immediately scooped me into his arms.

"Talk to me, darlin'," he begged.

"I can't _see_ when it comes to this new girl," I said, frustrated. "Everything is fuzzy, like looking through fogged glass."

My empathic mate absorbed my frustration and replaced it with calm. I heard Edward zoom back down the stairs and into his vehicle. The engine revved and he was gone.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, I was trying to get a vision of Bella Swan, to no avail. The most I could conjure up were frustratingly blank scenes of a dark, empty stretch of highway. My frustration radiated out in waves, prompting Jasper to send me more calming waves.<p>

"I can't find her, Jazz," I admitted. "She's just as blank to me as before."

My mate walked up to me and gently grasped my hands, which were pulling at my hair.

"Tell me what you've seen," he coaxed.

"Just a stretch of the one-oh-one," I huffed. "But it's empty! I don't know why I'm seeing it!"

"Can you pinpoint where on the one-oh-one it is?" Jasper asked.

"There's a mile marker…" I focused again on the image. "It's about five miles outside of La Push. It's the treaty line!"

I was excited at this revelation, but still confused. The vision changed, then: instead of just seeing a deserted highway, I realized that I was going to be there. _Why was I going to be there?_

"I'll be there," I updated my love.

As soon as I said that, another change occurred in my vision.

"And you'll be there, too."

"Of course I will," he said. "Where you go, I will go."

We pulled on some shoes and ran out to the treaty line, staying far enough away to not be seen as crossing it. There were werewolves in La Push back when Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Emmett and Rosalie first came to the area in the thirties, and Carlisle and Edward had met with them to explain that their dietary habits would not harm any people that the wolves claimed to protect from us 'Cold Ones.' When we came back to settle in Forks last year, Carlisle insisted we honor the boundary line from the treaty that had been reached so long ago, although it appeared the wolf gene had long since died out.

* * *

><p>Jasper and I didn't have long to wait before I realized why my vision led me to this point. From across the boundary line an engine revved, increasing speed as it approached our hiding spot in the woods. Bella Swan approached the bend in the road before passing us. Without conscious thought, I shot off through the woods, keeping pace with her. Jasper was hot on my heels. Every once in a while, her helmet-clad head would tilt in our direction for a second before turning to look ahead of her again. It was almost as if she knew we were there. The thought was absurd.<p>

We split off from the human close to our home. Carlisle had made it back from the hospital and was consoling as distraught Esme. I made a decision to figure out the mystery that was Bella Swan. Maybe if I became more familiar with her, I could see her better. I had the sense that she was important, somehow, and I needed to figure out why.

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

Sorry for the delayed update, guys. Working on a horse ranch is crazy and I've been coming home barely able to stay awake before getting some dinner in me!

On a separate note, I CANNOT get enough of the story The Lists by shirleypositive72. Take a look at it if you haven't already.

Drop me a line if you like this little divergence! I like writing Alice, but I'm not sure how much I'll be able to fit her into this story without breaking up continuity.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FOUR— AND LIFE GOES ON**

Tuesday morning, I fell out of bed rumpled and not rested. All nightlong, I had dreamed of clenched fists and angry eyes; Jacob's warning to stay away from Cullen echoed in my mind. To say the least, I felt like I hadn't actually slept at all. I stumbled through my morning routine, pulling on some black jeans and boots, along with a gray t-shirt, grabbing my bomber jacket and helmet on the way out of the door. The sky looked like it was about to open up. I pulled into the school lot, which was mostly empty at that point in time, covering my bike with her waterproof cover just as the light mist started pouring down.

_Ugh_, I thought, walking into the school, _I might have to carve into my savings to buy a four-wheeled vehicle._

I walked to the library to sit down before I would need to start class and pulled out my phone to text Jake.

_Know of any place I can buy a car for cheap?_ I typed out.

A few minutes later, I got a reply.

_Not sure about cars, but I've still got the old truck I restored. I might even be willing to sell it to you cheap, 'cause I'm such a good guy like that._

_Hah! _I replied. _'Good guy' my ass. You probably just can't find anyone to take it off your hands!_

_That might be a little bit true, _he texted back, _but it really _is_ a good truck. Indestructible. _

_Mind if I take a look at it this afternoon? _I asked.

_I'm busy for the next couple of days, _Jake said, _come over Friday and I'll hook you up._

I typed out '_Done,_' as the first bell rang for class.

The morning went by slowly. I was thoroughly unimpressed with the Forks curriculum, which was basically a year behind Phoenix all around, and thought about skipping. The only thing keeping that thought from becoming a reality was Charlie. I had already grown close to him in a way and didn't want to do anything to jeopardize our fledgling father-daughter relationship.

At lunch, I sat with Angela again, tuning out Jessica and Lauren's pointless drabble. A brief look towards the table Dickward was at yesterday told me that he wasn't there today, though the rest of his family was. The two couples were wrapped up in their respective significant others, but the little fae-haired one—Alice, my mind told me—looked to me just as I was about to turn away. She looked… curious?

When I was finished with my drab meal, I got up to dump my tray in the trash and head to my next class. I jumped a little bit when, looking up from my ministrations, I saw Alice Cullen no more than three feet from me. I nodded to her before walking toward the exit, intending to keep with my plan of getting to Biology on time today. A small, cool hand reached out to grab my forearm before retracting like lightening.

"Wait!" she said in a high-pitched fairy voice. "I'm Alice."

She stuck her hand out for me to shake. I readjusted my backpack instead.

"And I'm leaving," I told her dismissively.

As I exited the cafeteria and started down the hallway, I realized I hadn't shrugged the girl off. She kept pace with me, moving almost silently while my footsteps echoed down the hallway. Halfway to biology, she still hadn't let up. I stopped and turned to her.

"What do you want?" I asked impatiently.

"You're different," she told me with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, turning to leave again.

"No, wait!" she demanded. "That came out wrong."

She started muttering about not being able to see clearly and some other babble. The bell rang and the hallways began to fill up.

"Look," I began. "You're Edward's sister, right? Well, _you _seem perfectly normal, but he's a total ass. So, if you have something constructive to say to me, let it out. If not, I've got to get to class."

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I don't know much about you, but I can tell you're going to shake things up."

"Uh, thanks?"

"Also, Edward won't be in class for the rest of the week," she told me. "He's really sick, so you don't have to worry about him bothering you for a little while."

I was a little surprised that she seemed on my side about the issue of her brother's douchebagerry, but even more surprised by what she said next.

"You're interesting," she told me. "Come sit with me tomorrow for lunch. I won't take 'no' for an answer."

Then, she nodded before I'd even responded like everything was set and turned on her heel, presumably to get to her class. The tardy bell rang, telling me I was late. I hurried to biology and slipped in while Mr. Banner's back was turned.

* * *

><p>That evening I put together a spectacular beef stroganoff from a recipe that was hand-written in a dusty old binder in the kitchen. Charlie's surprised voice echoed down the hall from the front door as he entered.<p>

"Bella?" he questioned. "Is that you cooking?"

"Yeah, Dad," I responded, adding the final touches to the dinner.

"Is that Grandma Swan's beef stroganoff I smell?" he asked, his voice getting louder as he approached the kitchen.

"I guess so," I told him, "I just found it in a binder."

"I haven't had this since before you were born," he admitted.

"Well, sit down and I'll hand you a plate."

We ate in a companionable silence that was only broken occasionally by Charlie's appreciative grunts and slurps.

"That was excellent, kiddo," Charlie told me after he had all but licked the plate clean of his second helping. "I didn't know you were such a great cook!"

"Yeah, well, growing up somebody had to make dinner," I divulged, "and it sure wasn't going to be Renee."

Charlie made an uncomfortable cough at that. If only he knew how much of a mother my mom hadn't been… would he be surprised to learn that I did all the bookkeeping since the age of nine? Or that I balanced the checkbook and that I had to be the one to tell Renee that we needed to go grocery shopping? Maybe he'd be shocked to know that I was the one who always set my alarm thirty minutes early so that I could make sure my mother was up in time to get to work before I caught the bus for school. I decided to keep all of that information to myself. There was no point in telling him, anyway.

My thoughts shifted to the odd conversation I'd had with Alice Cullen today as I bussed the table. I gathered our plates and cups, took them to the sink and ran the hot water so that I could wash.

"Hey, Charlie," I began, "what do you know about the Cullens?"

He thought for a moment before responding.

"To be honest, I don't know much," he told me. "But I do know that Dr. Cullen is doing great things for the community when he could be off at some high paying job in Seattle or who knows where else. I know, too, that those kids haven't made any trouble the entire time they've been in Forks, which is difficult to say about some others in town."

His current monologue was the longest I'd ever heard him talk at one time, but still, he continued.

"I know some folks don't like them, Billy included," he said, "but I have found no fault with them. They're good people."

He nodded and stuck his thumbs in his belt loops as if to say he'd said his piece.

"I'll dry," he offered, indicating the dishes I had just finished washing.

"Sounds good."

* * *

><p>The next morning came entirely too soon. All night I had experienced more vivid dreams featuring Jake and Edward Cullen. Both of them were angry with me, but I couldn't figure out why. I was running through a forest chasing something I couldn't quite see. When I awoke, my heart was racing as if I really had been running just a few seconds before.<p>

The rain was pouring so insistently, I knew it would be cruel to ride Sadie to school. Luckily, Charlie hadn't left for work by the time I made it downstairs twenty minutes later and graciously offered to drop me off on his way to work.

"You know, kiddo," he told me, "you're probably gonna need to think about driving something with four wheels and a roof."

"I'm starting to think that, too," I admitted. "I'm going to look at a truck Jake restored on Friday."

"That Chevy?" he asked as he pulled into the Forks High lot.

"You've seen it?" I asked.

"'Course I have," he said. "That boy did a good job putting it back together. Plus, it seems you have a yearning for classic vehicles."

"Yup," I agreed. "Thanks for the ride, Dad."

"No problem, Bells."

* * *

><p>My morning classes passed by in a blur; I was really enjoying knowing all of the material ahead of time. My stomach was uncharacteristically fluttering as lunch approached, however. Was this anticipation for sitting with Alice Cullen? I'd thought about backing out, but realized she probably wouldn't let me.<p>

As Angela and I walked into the lunchroom together, we talked about things of little consequence. Her twin brothers had come down with the chicken pox and she'd stayed up all night helping her mother care for them. I gave her my notes from Trig when she mentioned she'd zoned off and missed a huge chunk of today's lecture. As we paid for our food, I started to split ways, offering an apologetic explanation as to why I wasn't sitting with her.

"Alice Cullen invited me to her table today and I don't think I could tell her 'no' if I tried," I said.

"Oh, wow!" Angela exclaimed. "I don't think anyone has ever sat with them. Well, have fun, I'll see you later."

_She's the sweetest person in this entire town,_ I thought to myself.

Alice joined me at that moment and guided me over to the infamous Cullen table. As we approached, I took stock of the group already seated. Edward was missing again, I noticed. Maybe he really was sick and that's why he was so rude to me before. The big guy, Emmett, was almost jumping out of his chair; he looked like a kid about to go to Disneyland. Rosalie, next to him, was his exact opposite. Her frosty exterior was so perfect; she looked like she could have been carved out of stone. Her brother, Jasper, sat next to her; while his stance was a bit more relaxed, I could almost feel the tension coming from him.

"Guys, this is Bella," Alice told them. "She's going to be eating lunch with us today!"

Jasper nodded, but didn't say anything. Rosalie completely ignored her sister, but Emmett boomed out an enthusiastic "Nice to meet you!" At that, Rosalie glared at her boyfriend/adopted brother and hissed under her breath. I just barely caught what she said.

"What are you_ doing_, Emmett," she whispered, quicker that I would have thought possible. "She's not worth it, and you _know_ how I feel about this whole lunch arrangement."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, too, Rosalie," I said as cheekily as possible. "If you don't want me here, I have other places to be."

Rosalie glared, Emmett guffawed, and Jasper looked suspicious. Alice quickly assured me that I indeed _was_ wanted at the table and that 'Rose' could just deal with it.

"Of course you're welcome here," the little pixie said. "It's just a lunch table, after all; we don't operate under the pretense that we own it. Besides, I want to know all about you!"

"Haven't you heard it all by now?" I mumbled as I set my tray down and pulled out a chair.

"I choose not to take part in the rumor mill," Alice stated. "I like to form my own opinions of people based on my interactions with them."

"And do you?" I asked. "Interact with the people here, I mean, or am I just a charity case—an anomaly deserving of your attentions?"

My question came out harsher than I intended it to; I guessed Jasper's hostility was rubbing off on me. The hairs on my neck were standing up on end for an unknown reason. I looked at Alice's too perfect face, waiting for an answer.

"Well," Alice began, "I think I should answer 'no' to both of those questions. It's true, we haven't made a grand attempt at assimilating into the group here in Forks, but as I told you yesterday, you're different."

"Huh," was all I could manage. I decided to get to work on my cob salad, as I hoped it would keep me from having to talk anymore at this awkward table.

"So, Bella," Emmett piped up, "what's it like, living in Phoenix?"

I took a minute to contemplate the bear of a man sitting across from me, along with his question. He looked far too old for a senior in high school. His physique told a story of someone nearing his end in college, maybe even a linebacker or rugby player.

"Well," I responded, "it's a hell of a lot brighter there, and the colors and textures are all different. Arizona in general in all hard-packed red clay- it's everywhere. The only spots of green are the golf courses. Here, everything's green and soft and lush. The smell is wrong, as well."

"The smell?" Emmett asked, confused.

"Yeah," I confirmed. "In the desert, the most dominant smell is the clay, the dirt. There's little to no rain most of the time, but when it _does_ rain, you can smell it for miles off, see it rolling in almost like a fog. Forks is too wet, to earthy. The smell clings to you like a film; I can't get it off, no matter how hard I scrub. It's all wrong."

I was surprised by my own candidness. I felt wistful, dwelling on my memories. I looked around the table and noticed that Jasper had the same look I was sure I held. Emmett and Alice were giving me rapt attention, and Rosalie was begrudgingly listening.

"I'm sure you all understand, though," I said before clarifying. "Coming from Alaska must have been equally as shocking, switching from sparseness to this lush area."

"Oh yes," Alice agreed. "So tell me, how's life with the Chief of Police as your father?"

"Hah," I chuckled. "The Chief's pretty okay. He's less of a father, more of a roommate. It's a nice change of pace from Renee."

"That's your mom, right?" Alice asked.

"She carried and birthed me," I conceded, "but that's about as far as her mothering went."

An uncomfortable silence followed my statement, but I ignored it and finished my salad. I surreptitiously noticed the lack of eating the others at the table were doing. Glancing at each of their too-perfect faces, noting the same odd eyes in differing shades of yellow, from topaz to spun gold. It was such an odd color for unrelated persons to share. Something was definitely odd with this family, though I couldn't put my finger on it.

The lunch bell broke the strained silence, prompting the Cullens in attendance to throw away their full trays. Alice Cullen followed me from the trash bin to the hallway like a shadow, just as she had the day before.

"Thank you for sitting with me today, Bella," she said. "I wasn't sure that you would."

"You seemed pretty set on it yesterday," I reminded her.

"Yes," she admitted, "but I can never be entirely certain when it comes to you. Sit with me again tomorrow? I'd like for us to become friends."

Friends? I didn't have a friend in this godforsaken town aside from Jake, and technically he was in La Push.

"I'd like that," I said. "To be friends…"

"Excellent!" she exclaimed. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah, tomorrow. Bye, Alice."

* * *

><p>By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, I felt like I'd entered the Twilight Zone. Alice Cullen and I had actually developed somewhat of a routine. We'd had lunch together twice more and I'd learned more about her mysterious family. She and Emmett were from Tennessee, Rosalie and Jasper hailed from Texas, and Dickward was originally from Chicago. Alice tried to sneak in tidbits about Edward, always painting him in a good light. I still thought he was an ass, from our two interactions, however at night I dreamt about him without fail.<p>

It was eerie, as if my subconscious was trying to tell me something that my waking mind couldn't grasp. In my dreams, he was always dangerous in some way or another. Some nights he was shrouded in darkness, only his piercing eyes would be visible. Other nights I would be running from some unseen presence through the dense forests, and though I never saw my pursuer, I always knew it was him. I would wake up feeling as if I'd never actually fallen asleep; sometimes I would be short of breath as if I actually had been running.

* * *

><p>The weather was merciful to me as I rode my bike to Jake's house. The place was practically deserted as I pulled up on my bike and set the kickstand down just inside the barn. I peeked into the barn and noticed a distinct lack of life before I backtracked to the small house. Billy answered the door, surprised to see me.<p>

"Hey, Billy, is Jake here?" I asked. "I was supposed to meet him to talk about that old truck he fixed."

"He was… hiking… he should be home soon," the wheelchair-bound man told me. "You can wait for him in here, or in the barn if you'd like."

"Right, thanks."

I returned to the barn. Before I made it inside, I saw Jacob emerge from the woods in nothing but a pair of cutoff sweatpants, followed soon after by two other tall natives.

"Bella!" Jake yelled as he waved towards me, all smiles.

As the trio approached, all dressed—or _un_dressed, as it were—in the same getup, I took stock of the two unknowns. Although the all had the same russet skin and muscular physique, Jake was taller than the others by a few inches. Still, they were over six feet tall, making my five-foot-four frame appear absolutely tiny in comparison.

"Bella, this is Sam and Paul," Jake said, pointing to the guys in turn.

Paul checked me out, giving me the up-down-onceover with his eyes without even bothering to be coy about it. Sam looked wary, but it suited his face. We all went inside the barn as the rain started to pour down. Jake closed the door directly in front of Sadie to protect her from the weather. He earned brownie points for that.

"That's some getup for hiking," I said conversationally.

"What?" Jake asked, confused.

"Billy said you were hiking," I told him, "but when _I _go hiking, I try to wear more than gym shorts to do so."

"I bet I could convince you otherwise," Paul smirked.

I blew him off and flipped him the bird.

"Paul," Jake warned.

"Soooo," I started again. "How about that truck?"

"It's here under the cover," Jake said, moving to take the wrapping off.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but this truck certainly wasn't it. As the cover came off, it revealed a cherry red masterpiece, complete with chrome accents and whitewall tires. I was expecting a hunk of rusty junk that could barely achieve forward motion going downhill; what I got, however, was nothing short of amazing.

"Jake…" I began, awed, "this is…"

"Amazing, I know," he replied cheekily.

Looking inside, I noticed a reupholstered black leather bench seat, complete with red piping. The bed was laid with wood, just like it would have looked rolling off the assembly line. He could sell this classic restore for a sweet payoff easily; I wondered how he would try to sling it with me.

"So what's this gonna run me?" I asked, fully prepared to walk away… although begrudgingly.

"Hang out for a minute and let me think on it," he said.

Sam pulled out a couple of warm sodas and sat down on the makeshift couches: two spare bench seats arranged in an 'L' shape. He held one out to me, which I took as I sat down near him. I cracked open the can, took down a gulp of the dark, carbonated liquid and sat back to admire the truck some more. God, she was beautiful. Never in my life had I had such a visceral reaction to something with four wheels. I couldn't wait to take her out and set the pedal down, which got me thinking…

"Hey, Jake," I said. "She _is_ something pretty to look at, but does she run?"

"What?" he asked, affronted. "You think I would spend my time working on this art piece and _not_ have it running in top form? I'm insulted."

I noticed Paul had sat himself unnecessarily close to me while I questioned Jake. He put out a creepy, predatory vibe that I wasn't feeling; I stood up, walked to the driver's side door, grabbed the handle and smiled at Jake.

"Why don't you prove it?" I asked.

Jake tossed me the keys and climbed in the passenger's seat as I closed my door behind me. Paul made a move to join us, but I shook my head 'no.'

"There's just not enough room for you, cowboy," I said, my voice saccharine with fake apology.

Sam chuckled at my rejection of his friend, and Paul sat down dejectedly as I put the classic Chevy in gear and pulled out of the barn.

Jake and I rode around La Push for a few minutes before getting out onto the one-oh-one. The ride was nice—the truck's performance was phenomenal—and Jake and I sat in a comfortable silence most of the time. He told me about the restore and the updated specs of the engine before sitting back and letting me see, hear and feel the hard work he had put in to turning the truck into a performance machine.

As we pulled back into the barn, I noticed Paul and Sam were still there chatting.

"So," Jake began as we made our way back to the couches, "any new developments with your drama at Forks High?"

"Drama is a bit much, don't you think?" I asked before continuing. "Regardless, no."

"Cullen's not giving you any more trouble?" Jake prodded.

I saw Sam and Paul immediately turn to me to hear my response. _Odd,_ I thought.

"Nope," I told him. "Actually, he hasn't been there at all since that first day. His sister said something about mono or some other sickness—I wasn't really paying attention."

Paul snorted, but stopped with a look from Sam. I added that to my list of odd things I was realizing about the people in this part of Washington.

"Yeah," I continued as if I'd noticed nothing, "one of his sisters has been inviting me to lunch—"

"I'll bet," I heard Paul mumble. Sam threw him another look.

"—_but_ I don't know I'll be eating with them much longer."

I looked directly into Sam's eyes as I said that, gauging his reaction. He looked slightly relieved, although I wasn't entirely sure why, seeing as how we had only met earlier that afternoon.

"So, I've been thinking," Jake said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over, "and I'll let this baby go for twenty-five hundred. I'm probably losing money on it that way, but since you're Charlie's kid, you're basically family."

"I feel sort of bad stealing from you, but if you're serious…"

"Sure, sure," Jake responded.

"It's a deal then," I said.

I walked over to Sadie to grab my backpack. Hidden within was a large wad of cash that I had intended to use only as a down payment. Jake's deal had taken a chunk out of it, but I still had a lot left to spare. I walked the money back over to Jake and placed it in his dumbstruck hand.

"One more thing, Jake?" I asked sweetly. "Could you figure out some sort of mount in the bed for Sadie here? Something where I can just load her in without much hassle and I won't be concerned about her moving around."

"Sure thing, let me think for a little bit and I'll get something rigged up."

I hugged his naked torso—correction, scorching hot naked torso—spontaneously, forgetting that we had an audience. A throat clearing and grumble, which I could only assume came from Paul, sounded somewhere behind me after a moment. I shot him the finger.

Things weren't romantic at all between Jake and me, how could anyone not see that? When I was younger, probably around four or five, I had begged Renee to give me a little brother or sister. I was so lonely all the time and I thought that maybe a sibling would help assuage that feeling. Of course, Renee was twenty-three at that time and the only things on her mind were the next party she would attend and her boy of the week.

I shook my head in an attempt to clear my head of those thoughts like the lines on an etch-a-sketch. If I had a brother, I'd want him to be like Jake. Conversation came easy and we had a great time together.

"Jake," Sam addressed the behemoth I was standing next to, "Paul and I have some… errands to attend to; don't forget about the bonfire tonight."

"Of course I won't," Jake responded flippantly. All three of the man-boys did the macho head nod as a dismissal.

"It was nice meeting you, Bella Swan," Sam said.

After they departed, I turned on Jake.

"You didn't tell me there was a party on the Rez tonight!" I accused.

"Well, it's not _really_ a party," Jake countered. "It's like tribal story time. All of the elders come out and tell the tales of our ancestors. There's food and stuff, but it's actually pretty boring."

"Damn," I cursed, "is there nothing in this town that's exciting?"

"Sure, sure, if you're in the know," Jake said flippantly. His eyes widened in shock at that. I took it as a slight against me.

"Well, I'll never be in the know if I don't get out at night!"

"Come then," Jake said. "We don't normally allow outsiders, but as long as you're with me, nobody should bother you."


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER FIVE—SMOKE ON THE WATER**

Jake and I had hung out for another few hours as the sun crept toward the horizon. I watched him as he drew up plans for the mount I had proposed, fascinated by the way his hand flew over the scrap of paper as the carpenter's pencil recorded his thoughts.

He had devised a set of clamps, basically, that were to be mounted in the center of the bed and spread apart the distance of Sadie's wheelbase. Then, whenever I decided to stick my bike in the bed, all I would have to do was tighten the clamps around her wheels and throw a tie-down over the seat for added stability. It was genius.

Sunset was fast approaching as Jake and I made our way down to First Beach. The salty smell that permeated this region intensified as the trees thinned out and the soil turned to rocky sand. A small group was gathered around a makeshift seating area that consisted of driftwood logs and a few folding camp chairs.

As we approached the group, I noticed a few familiar faces, Billy, Sam and Paul, along with a few other faces I knew but couldn't place. Billy looked at Jake for a moment, a silent conversation apparent in their eyes, before he turned to me.

"Welcome, Bella," he said in his calm, low voice, "this is unexpected."

"Yes," I said succinctly.

There was something about Billy's guardedness that irked me. I took it as a challenge. I was about to say something to him when a rotund figure came up next to Billy with a warm smile.

"Is that Bella Swan?" the man asked. "I haven't seen you since you were eight, at least."

"I'm sorry… I don't…" I began.

"Of course you don't," he agreed. "Harry Clearwater. I've gained a few pounds since I saw you last"

Harry chuckled and slapped his large belly. A vague series of memories came back to me like a murky slide show of fishing trips with Charlie and Harry.

"Oh, yeah!" I recovered. "I remember you; Charlie dragged me out on the boat a couple of times with you both."

Clearwater chuckled again before he turned to wave two tall, wafer-thin teens over. Upon further inspection, the duo was obviously brother and sister, and very obviously had come from Harry Clearwater's loins. I shuddered at that train of thought, though managed to pass it off as a chill.

"Are you cold?" Jake asked.

Without waiting for a response, he took off the flannel button-down shirt he had put on, leaving him in only a thin T-shirt, and handed it to me. In truth, I _was_ getting cold, so I took the proffered shirt without fuss.

"Bella," Harry Clearwater reclaimed my attention. "These are my kids, Leah and Seth."

Seth looked like a happy-go-lucky kind of kid. He still had some baby fat in his round cheeks, but still towered over me even though he couldn't be much more than fourteen. Leah, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of her little brother. She was all sharp angles and high cheekbones, and she exuded an air of total and complete bitch. While Seth greeted me with a warm "Hiya, Bella," Leah glowered at me for a second before she turned and walked away.

"I'm sorry about that, Bella," Harry apologized. "She's going through a rough spot."

I shrugged it off. Jake motioned me over to the now roaring bonfire, though thankfully away from a leering Paul. I spotted Sam again; this time with a small Native girl in her early twenties nestled securely under his arm. She had a horrific set of scars across one side of her face. I was about to ask Jake about it when he beat me to the punch.

"That's Emily," he whispered lowly, close to my ear. "She's Sam's fiancée. He doesn't like it when people stare at her though, so try to keep it to a minimum. She was attacked by a bear… barely survived."

"I hope somebody got the bear," I murmured back.

Another half hour mulled past while more members of the tribe joined the small group around the fire. I felt out of place, and had garnered a few surprised looks from newcomers, but one look from my escort quenched them.

When the area around the bonfire was full to bursting, Billy rolled into the place of honor at the head of the group. I hadn't even seen him arrive. That thought was quickly forgotten, though, as he began to spin a tale in his deep baritone voice.

He told a story of origins, the Quileute's origins, to be exact. His voice was hypnotic and all encompassing; I found myself drawn in to the tale he was weaving. The Quileute people were, according to legend, descended from wolves. They grew into humans, but still kept their ties with their wolf ancestors. These ties allowed them to save their people when a great tragedy came about. Billy kept talking about these Cold Ones, but I couldn't grasp the allegory. Whatever they were, they were a threat big enough to cause the Quileute men to turn back into wolves to save their tribe. The legend told that, if the need was great enough, the same phenomenon could happen today.

After Billy finished his story, I looked to Jake with questions in my mind. Did he really believe the tale? What was the Cold One Billy had spoken about? As the group began to disperse, I got up and walked toward the surf. Though I couldn't hear him, I felt Jake follow me. _My protector_.

"You okay?" Jake asked me.

"Yeah," I told him, "just had to get up and stretch my legs. That's some story your dad told."

"For some people, it's not _just_ a story," he responded.

I looked to him, then, in an effort to read his face, but he was positioned with his back to the fire and I could not see through the blackness.

"Jake, what did your dad mean by '_Cold Ones_?'"

He took a moment to think, I assumed; his huge body shifted his weight from foot to foot; he wrung his hands before sighing.

"Look, I shouldn't be telling you anything," he began. "There's rules… but maybe if I only told you part…"

He was talking to himself instead of me, it seemed; he was reasoning with himself.

"The Cold Ones in the legend were vicious murderers," he told me, finally. "Their skin was as hard as stone and cold to the touch, like ice. That's why the men had to transform into wolves—to be strong enough to kill them. That's all I can tell you."

Sam and Paul joined us then, looking terse. They shared a hard look for a moment before Jake sighed.

"You should probably start heading home," Jake suggested, leading me away from the ocean, back toward his house.

As we left the still dwindling group, I noticed Jake visibly relax.

"What's the deal with them?" I asked once we were back on the gravel road Jake's house was on.

"They just get to be too much sometimes," he admitted.

"So don't hang out with them so much?" I suggested.

"I wish it were that easy…"

Jake convinced me to leave my precious Sadie in the barn and take the truck back to Forks on account of the unrelenting downpour that was forecasted for the next week. A very surprised Charlie was just coming in from his late shift as I pulled into the driveway.

"Finally wised up and got rid of that death machine, I see," he remarked as I stepped out of the car.

"Har, har," I replied. "Actually, Jake convinced me to leave her and take Big Red instead. There's supposed to be one hell of a frog strangler coming in."

"Ah, that's true," he agreed. "That Jake's a good boy."

He said no more as we went inside and retired to our separate rooms for the night.

My head was swirling when it hit my pillow, full of my overactive imagination's recreation of Billy's story. The thoughts quickly turned to unpleasant dreams.

_I was back in my dream forest, dark and ominous. A part of me knew this was yet another dream, but everything felt so real. I could _smell_ the murky, damp ground beneath my feet. _

_Right on queue, Jake stepped out of the shadows, although this time two wolves accompanied him. Edward Cullen and his family stepped out from behind another large tree. The contrast between Jake and the Cullens was literally and metaphorically a difference between dark and light. _

_Jake noticed me then, in the middle of the two groups; he began to yell._

_"Bella! Get away from them!" _

_I didn't understand, what was the problem?_

_"They're dangerous, Bella," Jake told me, answering my thoughts._

_"How are they dangerous?" I asked aloud._

_Before he could respond, Jake transformed into a wolf like the ones flanking him. All three charged straight ahead towards the Cullen family that had disappeared behind a tree. I chased after them; I needed to see who would come out victorious. My legs pumped savagely, as if I were running for my own life. On and on I ran, able to hear the screams and growls in front of me, just out of sight._

This dream had become my new normal. Saturday, Sunday and Monday mornings, I awoke with my chest heaving, my heart pumping and my breath short. A thin sheen of sweat covered my brow and chest; my nostrils still held the scent of the ground.

I rolled out of bed and growled at my useless alarm clock, which glowed an unwelcome five fourteen. It had been the same for the past few days: I rose entirely too early, but was too pumped up to try and fall back asleep. Grumbling, I headed for the shower, still thinking about the dream as the water turned to steam and the mirror fogged over. Why had this dream stuck with me? Who did I want to win the fight I was absolutely positive was happening just beyond my sight? Something still felt as if it were missing. As I showered, that last thought kept running through my mind: _something was missing._ But what _was_ that something?

With hours to kill before I left for school, I grabbed my favorite worn copy of Wuthering Heights and began to read. Sure, the Bronte sisters were a bit out of character for me, but I really enjoyed Emily's fucked up version of life.

My chill from the dream was fading as I dressed for the day. I habitually picked up my helmet before I even realized I'd done it. As I set it back down, I sent Jake a text reminding him to take care of my baby while he had her, and asking how the manufacture of the braces for the truck were going. As I left for school, the warm blast from the heater took care of the final vestiges of bad feelings and gave my cheeks a rosy hue.

One thing I noticed as I rumbled into the parking lot was a silver Volvo that had been absent for the past four school days was conspicuously _present_; also, it was in my spot. I begrudgingly pulled in next to it; all the while I wondered how childish it would be of me to park the truck as close to that stupid Volvo as I could so its owner couldn't access the driver's side door. As a last minute change of heart, I parked it a respectable distance away from its neighbor. I wouldn't give Edward dickhead Cullen a chance to ding the beautiful masterpiece that was Big Red.

I should have taken that stupid silver Volvo as a sign of what was to come for the day. My morning classes slugged by slower than molasses in wintertime and Jessica 'Big Tits' Stanley would _not_ stop talking about her lusty, sex-filled adventure of a weekend with Mike. By the time I made it to the lunchroom, I was begging whatever gods would listen to drop a boulder on me, or maybe a toilet seat from the space station that would hit me in the head at a blinding speed and instantly render me dead.

I noticed Edward shitbrick Cullen's mop of messy bronze hair as I departed the lunch line. Why had it caught my attention? Oh right, because he was staring at me like a hawk. I laughed to myself as I flipped him the bird, my internal monologue linking hawk and bird. _Hah_.

Angela sat down next to me as I rejoined my original table, not content to sit with Alice Cullen again today. In fact, I completely ignored the Cullen table as I ate, even when Jessica not so subtly nudged my shoulder and whispered with her onion breath in my ear that Edward Cullen was staring _again_. Just like the first day. _Whatever_.

Deciding I'd had enough social interaction for the day, I stood up with fifteen minutes of lunch left, chunked my garbage in the receptacle and wandered the empty hallways toward my Biology classroom. I realized about a minute into my walk that I had a silent follower. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end; my nose caught a whiff of honey and… _lilac_? Although I couldn't hear footsteps, I just _knew_.

With no warning or forethought, I spun on my heel and encountered my follower: Edward fucking Cullen. He looked surprised; his eyebrows shot up into his ridiculous hairline before he returned his face to a calm mask.

"What do you want?" I asked gruffly. "Why are you following me?"

"I don't understand what you mean," he replied, "I was just heading to my next class, that happens to be the very same one you are going to."

"Oh, of _course_," I said sarcastically. "Silly me thinking maybe you were trying to figure out how to apologize to me for being such an utter and complete douche last week."

"No! I mean, yes," he stuttered. "I was meaning to apologize for my behavior last week. I was… unwell… but I should never have been so… rude to you."

"Well, rude is an understatement," I corrected. "You never even spoke to me. Instead, you decided to treat me like a leper or someone with an equally disgusting disease. If you could have burrowed into that wall, I'm sure you would have. And what the fuck was with the whole Mrs. Robinson bit with Mrs. Cope after that? Trying to seduce her so she'd switch your classes mid-year? Jesus."

I was panting slightly from my rant, in which I'd not stopped to take a breath once. He was staring at me with a slack jawed expression. Just as I was about to turn to leave, he spoke up.

"You never seem to do what I expect," he told me.

"You haven't been around me long enough to know to expect the unexpected," I responded.

"I'd like to change that," he said boldly. "I'd like to get to know you."

"Look, Eddie," I smiled as he grimaced at the nickname, "you seem like a perfectly nice guy, our first encounter notwithstanding; but therein lies the problem: _I _am not a nice gal."

_That_ did leave him stunned, and I turned on my heel to walk to class and he remained rooted to the ground. I settled myself on my stool, noting with a small smile that we had a substitute today and the AV cart had already been wheeled in. Edward Cullen sat down beside me as the sub called the class to attention.

"Class, my name is Mr. Benton. Mr. Berty has provided a video on cellular mitosis in the human body. A two page paper will be due next class on the subject."

As the sub turned to play the tape, I felt a slip of paper slide my way. Note passing was not something I had ever done with much gusto, but my curiosity won out over my pride.

_What makes you think I'm a good guy?_ –EC It read

I laughed under my breath before scribbling a response.

_Aside from your sister singing your praises last week? _I wrote.

He sighed as he read my response. Soon after, his reply made its way back to my side of the table.

_Yes, aside from that. What do you base your assumption off of? –EC _

_The Chief says you don't get in trouble with the law. Everyone in this school idolizes you and your family. I've only met a couple of people who dislike you. All signs point to good guy._

His response was swift.

_Just because I'm in good standing with the population of Forks doesn't necessarily make me an angel. –EC_

The sub was passing through the rows of students. I tucked the note away under the table as he came by to poke sleeping students and scold anyone he saw texting. I had decided that our conversation was over. I took my pen and began nimbly working it with my fingers like a miniature baton. Not ten minutes later, another sheet of paper found its way to my side of the table.

_I think we started off on the wrong foot, _he wrote. No shit. The next part, however, made me smirk. _Hello, my name is Edward Cullen and it is a pleasure to meet you. –EC_

I decided to play along. _Hello, Edward, my name is Isabella Swan, but I prefer Bella._

His response was swift, his script calligraphic in its elegance.

_Enchanted, _Bella, he wrote. _What brings you all the way to Forks?_

Should I tell him the truth? No one in town, Charlie aside, knew the real reason for my sudden move. I decided to risk it; he didn't seem like the type to gossip.

_I got kicked out of my mom's house in Phoenix for being arrested… you?_

The shock on his face was obvious as he read my candid response. It took him a few minutes to even wipe the look off his face. The bell rang out its dismissal before he could reply. I gathered my backpack and headed toward the exit door as I fell in line with the other students. I was almost through the main doors when I heard my name.

"Bella!" Edward's voice rang out over all the other students' garbled conversations. "Bella, wait!"

Some students turned in shock, not sure whom they should look at: the new girl barely anybody knew, or the eerily good looking guy who had intentionally isolated himself from the rest of the student body for the past year and a half.

I humored Edward and let him catch up to me amidst the sea of moving students.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't know precisely what to say back there. You… you never seem to do what I expect. I'm used to being able to… read people… but with you, it's a mystery."

"You don't owe me any apology or explanation, Cullen," I told him. "However, if you could, keep what I told you on the down-low."

"Of course," he told me, his tone serious.

I laughed. "Lighten up, Cullen! You'll get wrinkles."

With that, I turned toward my truck and headed home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Things are slowly diverging from Twilight... I hope you stick around to find out how my story evolves! With that said, if you enjoy my story, tell your friends! I don't need comments or encouragement for every chapter (I'm having a pretty fun time writing this) but it's always wonderful to have the story shared.

In other news, it's my birthday week! Hooray! And I'm starting my first big-girl job. Less hooray... This means I will have to figure out a new writing schedule, but fear not! I will keep writing. So if you haven't already, subscribe to story updates to let you know when a new chapter is out.

That's all for today, folks! -Kelsey


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SIX: JUST A PEEK…**

**EPOV—**

I had run out of time to hide. Carlisle had given me a week to decide what I was going to do, and that week was drawing to a close. It was Thursday, my perfect mind told me, and I was still wavering between staying in Denali and going back home to Forks. Of course, Alice saw my indecision. A text popped up on my cell phone's screen: _Esme misses you._ That was enough to tip the scales: I was headed home.

My fairy sister was waiting for me in the long term parking at Sea-Tac, right next to my Volvo.

_You made the right decision,_ she thought.

"How do you know?" I asked. I saw her frustration with the fact that her precognition didn't seem to work with Isabella.

As I opened the driver's side door, a tremendous smell engulfed my nostrils—a familiar smell. My immediate response was a pooling of venom in my mouth as my brain registered Isabella's scent. I stared murderously at my sister as I tried to comprehend a reason for the smell.

_Get in the car_, she thought. _This will be good for you._

She pictured a dark grey sweater that she had placed in the back seat—Isabella's sweater.

"I plucked it from her laundry hamper last night," she told me simply. "You need to desensitize yourself to her smell if you have any chance of not killing her."

Reluctantly, I climbed into my car and took a breath. My throat felt as if someone had made me swallow tacks, the burning was so intense. I was sure my eyes were pitch black. I started the engine and gunned it out of the parking space. Alice sat quietly next to me, her only thoughts a recitation of the Iliad in its native Greek. _She was hiding something from me._

"Just spit it out, Alice," I told her.

"I've spent the week getting to know her?" she phrased her sentence as a question.

"And you thought I'd be mad about this, why?"

"It's so hard to _see_ when it concerns her," she told me. "But she is something else entirely."

"I'll say…" I mumbled.

The ride back home was excruciating. Not only did I have Isabella's intoxicating scent to contend with, but also Alice filled me in on all that she knew of the girl. I was rather enjoying her rundown of all things Isabella until she mentioned that she was friends with at least one boy from the Quileute reservation.

A feral growl ripped through me without warning. Those _mutts_ were dangerous! The three we had met with to reinstate the treaty were only slightly older than Isabella. The odds that she would befriend one of them were high, given what we knew of the population makeup. Alice confirmed it when she thought of a name: Jacob Black. He was a direct descendant of the Chief we had made the original treaty with and had himself recently made the change to wolf when we met last year upon our return to the area.

Of course, this train of thought came full circle when I realized I was planning on interacting with her on a daily basis and I could barely resist attempting to eat her sweater at the moment. I laughed darkly at that.

The sun had risen just over the horizon as I pulled up to our sprawling home. Alice left to see Jasper and get ready for school. I opted to stay home on this Friday. Esme greeted me with a hug and a 'welcome home.' I traveled up to my room, the nefarious sweater clutched in my hand.

The entire day passed with me desperately trying to desensitize myself to Isabella's delicious smell. When Alice returned, it was with infuriating news: Isabella would once again make her way to the reservation this evening for a bonfire. Again, an instantaneous desire to keep her safe ignited deep in my gut before I could think about why. I stood up immediately and searched out my brother.

I sought out Emmett for the task I had in mind. Although Jasper might have been more useful given his empathic abilities, he was still on the fence about whether or not I should just kill her and be done with it. In his military mind, Bella Swan was a risk to the family and only two things could happen: we could move from Forks, or she could cease to exist. Given Carlisle's status as town doctor, leaving was not a current possibility. I was disinclined to give him an opportunity to enact his alternate scenario.

Emmett was acting as a jack underneath his Jeep when I found him. Rosalie was under the Jeep, as well, with ratchet in hand as she performed a tune up. Her mind was only half-focused on that task, however; she was fiercely protective of our family and so was of a similar mind to Jasper. Her vanity also showed through her thoughts as she wondered why the family—Emmett and Alice in particular—had focused any attention at all towards a 'pathetic human.'

"Emmett," I began, "I have a challenge for you."

Immediately, his interest was peaked. My brother never could resist any sort of wager or test of strength. His mind flew through a list of possible challenges I could offer and how he could attempt to best me. Rosalie's interest was also peaked, but as usual suspected foul play. I was going to have to play my cards carefully to avoid her wrath.

"What's the challenge, little brother?" he asked.

I chuckled at his term for me. Although I had been born almost forty years before he, Carlisle had given me immortality at seventeen; Rosalie had found Emmett when he was almost twenty.

"First man to find a bear, wins," I told him simply.

"And what are you prepared to lose?" he asked.

I thought for a moment before my response came to mind.

"If I win, you can't think about anything that happens between you and Rosalie _in the bedroom_ within a three-mile radius of me for a week," I told him.

"And if _I _win, it will be ten times worse," he smiled and shook my hand.

Three hours later, I had had my fill of deer and bear. I'd managed to beat my brother to the punch, so to speak, and had thereby won our bet. The always-lighthearted Emmett shrugged the loss off and cut to the heart of our excursion.

"So what did you _really _bring me out here for?" he asked.

I thought for a moment on how to order my thoughts.

"I'm going to… conduct an experiment," I told him. "I need your help, should anything not go as planned."

"And by that you mean it has something to do with you not killing Bella Swan," he deduced.

"You're not all brawn, you know," I commented.

"Yup," he agreed, rapping his knuckles to his temple, "there's a little bit of brain in here somewhere. So what's the plan?"

Another two hours had passed. Emmett and I had waited in the woods behind the Swan residence for Isabella's return from the Reservation. Although we chatted while we waited, my brother could tell that I was distracted. I found it hard to try to explain that my visceral reaction to her apparently went beyond the singer bond. Maybe since I hadn't killed her immediately I was experiencing some sort of caveman-esque claim to her. However, I knew this was not the case as soon as the thought came to mind. The protectiveness I felt in regards to Isabella Swan's proximity to the unpredictable werewolves exceeded that. I _needed_ her to be safe, ironic though it was when I thought about what was to come next.

Isabella _finally_ returned to her home not on her motorcycle, but in a large, old Chevy truck. Chief Swan pulled in around the same time as his daughter and both entered the house and retired to their respective rooms.

When the Chief's mind wandered into sleep, I made my move. Emmett followed me to a tall tree outside of Isabella's bedroom window. We scaled the tree and settled onto a sturdy limb where Isabella's sleeping form was visible under her covers through the open window.

Emmett held onto me as I took my first breath since her arrival. My throat charred as I took her scent into my lungs, but the combination of having mildly accustomed myself via her stolen sweater and the distance from her body kept my bloodlust from becoming unbearable.

_I'm proud of you, man_, Emmett thought as I drew in another breath.

He held me back just in case for another thirty minutes before anything happened. I did not have any troubles with regards to Isabella's blood; in fact, I grew even more desensitized as the time passed on. I smiled at that realization. I could do this.

I was sure Isabella had awoken when she began to speak. I gasped when she clearly said my name and assumed the worst: that she had caught me watching her. However, I quickly realized she was merely talking in her sleep. It warmed my core to know that she was dreaming about me, but her occasional mumble of my name turned to restless tossing and turning and a shout of 'Jake, no!' Her heart rate picked up as her dream continued and I was concerned that she might fall out of her bed in her manic state.

An hour later, I decided I had tested my limits enough for one night. Emmett and I returned home to an excited Alice and a fuming Rosalie. I'd let my brother deal with his mate; I was too euphoric at not killing Isabella to let Rosalie tear into me. My pixie sister clapped her little hands and hugged me as I entered the door.

"I knew you could do it!"

"I thought you said you couldn't _see_ when it came to her," I recalled.

"Yes, but you didn't interact with her," she told me. "You decided to go near her, but not encounter her, so I could see you in the tree. I think you should go back again tomorrow, this was a very good outcome."

And so I did. I returned to Isabella's window Saturday night and perched once more in the tree, this time with Alice by my side. She even stole in through the open window to make a swap: Isabella's previously stolen sweater was returned, as her scent no longer lingered in the fibers, and in return and old, worn T-shirt—one that she had worn to sleep the night before—was taken and put into a large Ziploc bag.

The night went smoothly for me, although the same could not be said for Isabella. Again, she tossed and turned, her heart fluttered like a field mouse's; I was wont to leave my vigil outsider her window. I wanted to know what her dreams had been about and I yearned to ask her. Of course, that was a preposterous idea, as she didn't _know_ I knew about her restless nights.

I spent the following day as wrapped up in her scent as I could be. All of the time I'd so far spent immersed in her essence had proven beneficial: I could notice the burn decreasing in its intensity. That evening as the sun was setting I could hardly wait to return to the Swan residence. This night I was going to test myself by making the trip sans backup. I sated my thirst with deer before I meandered through the thick growth of trees to her window.

After a few hours of watching her sleep and no intense feelings of wanting to drink from her, I decided to push myself further. I rationalized that, come tomorrow, I would be a mere foot away from her in class and so needed to prove it a possibility; however, the reality was much more selfish: I wanted to be closer to her. I felt drawn to her.

I climbed through her window and seated myself in an old rocking chair in one corner. Not soon after, her vivid dream began once more. She breathed my name. Louder, she firmly said 'Jake, no!' Her heart began to race, and with it, her scent intensified. I could almost taste the light layer of sweat beading up on her soft skin. The temptation to lay with her on her bed gave me pause and I analyzed it. My protective inclinations toward Isabella had, if anything, intensified during my recent nightly visits and I could see from that standpoint how I had grown to care for the girl; however, romantic feelings had always been foreign to me, even during my human years. I knew through my telepathy how others' romantic feelings began, but I didn't see those signs within my own mind; I reasoned, therefore, that my desire to lay with her stemmed from the warped sense of protection I had for her than began when her blood first called to me.

Around five in the morning I left my post in her rocking chair and ran back home to prepare for the day. I showered quickly, changed into fresh clothes and headed toward Carlisle's study where he had beckoned me.

"Good morning," I said as I entered.

"Good morning, Edward," he replied. "Please, sit."

I did as I was bid and settled in across from my maker.

"You have been spending time acclimating to your singer, Isabella Swan, I hear," he stated.

"I have."

"And?" he prompted.

"The burn is ever present, but manageable," I told him. "I spent the night in close proximity to her with no ill side effects."

_Oh really? _Carlisle thought.

"I needed to ensure that I could be near her during the school day," I explained.

"Of course, son. I'm proud of your strength of will."

There was a thought wandering around in his vast mind that he was trying to conceal. Normally, I would ignore such a thing, but as with all things that concerned Isabella lately, I threw discretion to the wind.

"Whatever it is you want to say, say it," I prompted him.

"I—" he began, before restarting. "You have a light in your eyes that I have not seen for some time. I cannot help but wonder if it has something to do with the Swan girl."

"I have no clue what you mean," I told him, "I have hardly even spoken to her."

"Be that as it may…"

Alice whirred down the hallway, but stopped at the open door through which Carlisle and I were seated.

"Come on, come _on_," she begged. "We're gonna be late!"

I sighed, smiling, and stood up from my chair to follow my energetic sister out of the office.

_Don't be a stranger_, Carlisle thought to me as I left.

The morning passed monotonously slowly. It _could _have had to do with the fact that I was anxiously anticipating my first non-sleeping encounter since I had returned. Regardless, time passed slower than it had any right to. By the time the lunch hour came about, I was so wound up that Jasper had to attempt to calm my nerves so that he wouldn't suffer. I had arrived at the cafeteria quicker than normal, which just served to agitate me more as I searched the incoming sea of students for Isabella.

Finally, she arrived. Her eyes went straight towards me. Could it be that she felt something akin to what I felt in regards to her? My hopes were dashed when she- in a very unladylike, but _very _her move—gestured to me with one finger.

"Hah!" Emmett chortled next to me. "She just told you to fu—"

"I _know_ what she signaled, Emmett," I growled low.

"I thought we'd made progress," Alice lamented. She thought back to the previous week when Isabella had sat with the family for lunch.

"Maybe it's me," I suggested, hoping I was wrong.

I couldn't help staring at her like a lurch. I hoped that maybe I could will her to look at me once more. Already, I craved her deep brown eyes. I heard Jessica Stanley's jealous inner monologue viciously rip Isabella apart. Though I tried to tune it out, her thoughts erupted something feral in me.

_How dare she talk about Isabella that way? _I thought, before I reminded myself that she hadn't actually _said _those things and that thoughts were supposed to be private within the confines of your own mind.

When Isabella stood up from the table a few minutes later and well before the end of lunch, I saw my opportunity to approach her. Full of surprises that hid in her silent mind, she turned on me in the hallway.

"What do you want? Why are you following me?" her gravelly voice flustered me and I forgot my original aim.

"I don't understand what you mean," I lied, "I was just heading to my next class, that happens to be the very same one you are going to."

"Oh, of _course_," she called my bluff. "Silly me thinking maybe you were trying to figure out how to apologize to me for being such an utter and complete douche last week."

"No! I mean, yes," I stuttered. "I was meaning to apologize for my behavior last week. I was… unwell… but I should never have been so… rude to you."

I hoped she would leave it at that, but she surprised me again.

"Well, rude is an understatement," she told me. "You never even spoke to me. Instead, you decided to treat me like a leper or someone with an equally disgusting disease. If you could have burrowed into that wall, I'm sure you would have. And what the fuck was with the whole Mrs. Robinson bit with Mrs. Cope after that? Trying to seduce her so she'd switch your classes mid-year? Jesus."

I was trying to comprehend this creature that was in front of me. How could such a small young lady hold so much pent up inside her? She was right, though; every word she spoke was the truth. I was ashamed of my actions, even though the only alternative I'd seen at the time was to kill her.

"You never seem to do what I expect," I said unexpectedly.

"You haven't been around me long enough to know to expect the unexpected," told me.

I knew at that moment that _wanted_ to; I wanted to know her.

"I'd like to change that. I'd like to get to know you."

"Look, Eddie," I hated that particular nickname, "you seem like a perfectly nice guy, our first encounter notwithstanding; but therein lies the problem: _I _am not a nice gal."

She turned and walked off, done with her end of the conversation. I, however, was not done. Every moment I spent with her, waking or asleep, my need for her proximity grew. I wanted to… be her friend? That did not seem like an adequate term, but I knew not else what to think. I wanted to know her. I wanted to hear all about her past; _I wanted to be there for her future_.

That thought brought me up short. I looked around the almost deserted hallway and realized class was about to start. I _heard_ the substitute's mind as I rounded the hallway. He was thinking some very inappropriate thoughts about a smiling Isabella. As I passed him, I growled low enough that his brain would not register it consciously, but that he would definitely, as they say, _get the memo_. His mind immediately associated Isabella with this seemingly random feeling of dread.

_Good,_ I thought, _maybe this will keep him from preying on any other students_.

"Class, my name is Mr. Benton. Mr. Banner has provided a video on cellular mitosis in the human body. A two page paper will be due next class on the subject."

The sub was still a bit shaken as I sat down, his mind elsewhere. It took him a beat longer than it should have to turn on the television and press play. I took the opportunity that his back was turned to pull out a sheet of paper and write a note to Isabella. I needed to know if there was a way she would let me in.

_What makes you think I'm a good guy?_ –EC

She laughed lightly, a heavenly sound to my ears. Her response came shortly thereafter.

_Aside from your sister singing your praises last week? _She wrote.

Damn Alice! I sighed as I thought about how much damage I would have to undo. Didn't my sister see that Isabella was not like the other girls in the school? A sugared description of me was not going to win her over; although, the truth would send her running even faster.

_Yes, aside from that. What do you base your assumption off of? –EC _

_The Chief says you don't get in trouble with the law. Everyone in this school idolizes you and your family. I've only met a couple of people who dislike you. All signs point to good guy._

_Just because I'm in good standing with the population of Forks doesn't necessarily make me an angel. –EC_

Isabella tucked the note away as the substitute passed. He still spent a beat too long checking to see if my tablemate was doing anything aside from watching the video as he'd assigned. It was obvious from his thoughts that he'd had luck with other female students when he'd subbed at other high schools. I made a note to convince him he no longer wanted to be around adolescent women at a future time.

I looked over to Isabella again, noticing that since the lecherous substitute's passing, she had not pulled our note out again. She was nimbly moving her pen in her hand, instead. I decided to try a new tactic.

_I think we started off on the wrong foot. Hello, my name is Edward Cullen and it is a pleasure to meet you. –EC_

She smiled. I felt I was headed on the right track.

_Hello, Edward, my name is Isabella Swan, but I prefer Bella._

Ah, 'Bella' did suit her better. It was beautiful, still, but decidedly less polished than 'Isabella.'

_Enchanted, _Bella, I replied. _What brings you all the way to Forks?_

She thought for a minute, her face an open book of deliberation. I tried to think of what in that sentence could make her think so hard on a response. For a moment, I feared I had pushed too far and that she wouldn't speak to me again. Then she jotted down a short reply. It was definitely _not_ what I had expected.

_I got kicked out of my mom's house in Phoenix for being arrested… you?_

_Arrested?_ I thought. _What on earth had she been doing to get arrested?_ But then I remembered that this woman was an enigma and that danger, maybe especially illegal danger, suited her perfectly. Unfortunately, the bell and rung as I thought through that and she had already bolted for the door. Had I messed up by not immediately replying? Did this compound my 'good guy' persona in her mind? Oh, what I would _give_ to have a glimpse into her silent mind!

I followed her out of the classroom and through the sea of dismissing students. She was almost outside now; I had to know.

"Bella," I yelled, "Bella, wait!"

Many students turned toward me in open shock. No member of my family had willingly engaged another student since our arrival last January. She graciously allowed me to catch up to her. My apology sprang from my lips.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know precisely what to say back there. You… you never seem to do what I expect. I'm used to being able to… read people… but with you, it's a mystery."

"You don't owe me any apology or explanation, Cullen," she told me. "However, if you could, keep what I told you on the down-low."

"Of course," I promised.

She laughed. "Lighten up, Cullen! You'll get wrinkles."

She turned, our conversation apparently over, and headed to her cherry red truck. That laugh was a beautiful melody, one that I swore I would hear again.

As my family joined me and we departed, my resolve was absolute: Bella was quickly becoming a shining beacon of happiness in my life. I needed to be near her and I would not do anything to jeopardize that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I hope you've enjoyed this peek into Edward's mind! Back to Bella next time.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER SEVEN—DAYS GO BY**

Ever since my verbal and written conversations with Edward, my dreams changed. Although I was loathe to admit it, he had something in him that had made me put my guard down and open up, even if only a little bit. In my new dream, Jake and his wolves had chased the Cullens out of the clearing and I had followed, as per usual. The change came when I found Edward waiting for me after I had run for a while.

_My heart was racing as I ran through the thick grouping of tall trees. Light barely filtered through the canopy to reach the forest floor. The wind shifted and I could smell him, Edward, before I saw him step out from behind a tall pine. Without saying a word, he let me know that he was okay, that the wolves hadn't reached him. I was relieved; just the sight of him calmed me._

I awoke calmer than I had over the weekend, my olfactory senses still stuck in dreamland. I _swore_ that I could smell Edward's honey-lilac scent on my pillow. Now _that _was even more absurd than my dreams. My morning routine of shower, dress, breakfast was in now way rushed. I felt light and relieved that I hadn't awoke to sticky, cold sweat and a racing heart. It felt as if I had, blessedly, managed to get some actual rest.

School passed just as pleasantly and by the time I got to biology, not even Edward Cullen could get me down. I wasn't sure what to expect, as our last (and only) two encounters had been polar opposites, but he greeted me with a small smile and as we worked, we chatted about inconsequential things.

The pattern repeated itself for the rest of the week, and then for the next four weeks. Winter's cold grasp was starting to weaken in Washington, which lifted my spirits immensely. I was made for the sun. As soon as the weather cleared a bit, I called Jake and asked him if he wanted a hiking buddy.

"Who said I was going hiking?" Jake asked, his voice full of sleep even though it was noon.

"I did. Get your butt up, I'll be there in twenty."

We hiked a fun trail that wound through the forest by the Rez and had a great time.

"Let's do this more often," I suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Jake agreed. "Things have been pretty tame around here lately, and it's fun having you around."

My nice month turned sour when Edward Cullen decided he was done with our fledgling friendship. I wasn't sure exactly what had happened, or why; I only knew of the exchange that happened after we had been let go from Biology. He had been distant during the class period. The thought made me laugh: I'd become nonchalant enough about my interactions with Edward Cullen that I had accidentally allowed him a bit of closeness. Not romantic closeness, of course not; however, I had grown used to his company throughout the day. We never said much beyond inconsequential things, such as the weather or our plans for the weekend.

"What's on the agenda for you this weekend?" I asked him.

"My family and I are going camping," he told me with a small smile.

"How very Brady Bunch of you!" I joked.

"And you?" he asked. "What are your plans?"

"I don't know," I replied. "Probably the same as usual, I'll head down to La Push. Jake's _finally_ finished the mount for my bike and the weather looks to be nice enough for a ride on Saturday."

His face had darkened a bit at the mention of Jake's name, which I was willing to neglect. His next words, however, made me see red.

"You shouldn't go there," he told me, his voice low and serious. "Those _boys_ you hang out with in La Push… they're dangerous. You could get hurt."

"Where do you get off thinking you can tell me what do to? You're not my keeper, you're not my father, and you're _not_ my boyfriend. Those _boys_," I spat, copying his derisive tone, "are my friends, which is what I thought you were becoming, but boy _howdy_ was I wrong!"

Honestly, I wasn't sure where the rage that welled up inside me had come from. One moment, I was fine; the next, I was three seconds away from becoming the Hulk.

"Bella, I don't think I can be your friend. I'm not… good for you."

His voice had changed to a somber tone; he looked pained as he spoke, as if he was sad about his statement. Why did he say it then? I had no idea why he would say that shit if he didn't want it, which only served to piss me off more. I turned on my heel and stomped out of the empty hallway we'd been arguing in.

"Bella, wait!" he called after me. I pretended not to notice.

I shifted my truck into gear with little to none of the softness and care I normally took with her and shot off for La Push.

When I arrived at Jake's garage, I was still fuming. I needed to do something to blow off the steam that threatened to billow out of my ears at any moment. I grabbed my gym bag from the truck and pulled on my athletic clothes and tennis shoes to go for a run.

Jake was my silent companion as I pushed myself harder and faster in my attempt to reach a threshold of pain that wouldn't come.

"Bells," he finally broke the silence after fifteen minutes of a dead run, "I'm impressed at your stamina, but damn, what's the problem?"

I stopped, barely winded at the cliff edge we had been inadvertently running to. The cold sea air did little to cool me off.

"It's nothing," I insisted, "just bullshit."

I had no intention of letting Jake have an I-told-you-so moment when it came to Edward Cullen. He had warned me to stay away from him, from all of the Cullens. Well, I wasn't hurt like he said I'd be—not physically, at least. I wasn't yet ready to admit that I was stung on the emotional end. _Note to self: emotional attachments are bullshit._

"It looks like a storm's coming in," Jake said, his eyes focused on the horizon.

I agreed, I could smell the far off rain clouds, could feel the direction of the wind and its intensity. A pretty wicked storm would probably end up hitting land in about an hour. We jogged back to Jake's house, not as intensely as we ran out, without any more words. I was finally starting to calm down. This was what I needed.

As we rounded the curve Jake's house was situated behind, I knew something wasn't right. Billy was outside on the gravel driveway. Sam had a hold of his wheelchair. Paul was pacing, agitated.

"Where have you been?" he yelled. It seemed something had happened in the forty minutes we were gone.

"Bella," Billy looked to me, his face drawn. "Harry Clearwater has had a heart attack. I've called Charlie; he's at the hospital. You should go be with him."

"Of course," I agreed. "I'll see you guys later."

I jumped in my truck and revved the engine. As I backed out of the driveway, I saw the group of guys hadn't moved, but were in a tight huddle with heads close together. It was obvious that they were discussing something serious. Harry was a tribal leader, and therefore very important to the tribe at large.

_He still _is_ important_, I reminded myself. There was no sense in thinking about the man in past tense until I knew what was happening.

I stopped at home to change out of my sweaty gym clothes before I headed to the hospital. I threw on my go-to outfit: black skinny jeans, black biker boots, dark charcoal grey Henley and a heather grey hoodie; already I was prepared for the worst.

When I arrived at the hospital, I immediately sought out Charlie and found him with a kind looking but grief stricken woman. _Must be Harry's wife_.

"Bella," Charlie looked surprised when he caught sight of me.

His eyes were red rimmed. I went to my dad immediately. My hand reached out to his shoulder, an attempt at a comforting gesture. He managed a small smile.

"Bells, this is Sue Clearwater," he told me.

"I wish we were meeting under better circumstances," she said sadly.

I took her hand and squeezed. There were no words I could think of to comfort this woman when I wasn't even sure what the state of her husband was. As if reading my mind, Charlie filled me in on the situation.

"Harry is in surgery with Dr. Gerandy right now," he told me. "It should be a few hours before we know anything."

I wondered why Dr. Cullen wasn't performing the surgery. He was supposedly a very talented surgeon, if Edward could be believed. I also wondered where Harry's two children were. They should be here with their grieving mother.

"Sue, would you like a cup of tea or a coffee?" I offered.

"Tea, please," she accepted.

The small cafeteria was at the end of a long hallway. The walls were the standard hospital grey with a faded teal stripe that ran horizontal at waist height. I hated hospitals. They reminded me of when I was younger and clumsy. Renee never could devote all of her attention to me, so I had ended up at the ER for stitches, finger splints and a couple broken bones.

One time she brought me in, in such a state that Child Protective Services was called in to evaluate the situation. I was eleven and had been baking a casserole from a recipe I'd pulled out of one of the magazines in the school library. It was Renee's birthday and I wanted to do something special for her. As I was pulling the dish could of the oven, I brushed my exposed arm against the top of the oven, which caused a terrible burn. To add to the situation, I immediately brought my arm back on instinct and dropped the casserole dish, which made a huge mess and splattered the four hundred degree food all over my uncovered legs, which just caused more burns.

My mother came into the kitchen yelling, telling me there was no reason I should be making such a racket on her birthday. I was crying as I cleaned up the mess and salvaged what I could. By the time we got back from the hospital, the food was cold and Renee was fuming. To top it off, she told me she wouldn't have had any to eat anyway, because she had decided _that day_ to become a vegetarian and therefore couldn't eat the chicken. That phase lasted a week.

I shook my head to pull me out of the memory and saw a man who had to be Dr. Cullen standing at the entrance to the cafeteria looking at me.

"Are you okay, Miss Swan?" he asked, concern on his kind face.

"Yeah, uh, just remembering," I told him. "How come you're not in surgery with Harry Clearwater?"

"The family asked for Dr. Gerandy specifically," he responded sadly. "I'm sorry, I have to get back to my rounds."

I returned to the waiting room with two hot teas and a coffee with two sugars for Charlie.

"Any news?" I asked as I handed the drinks out. Charlie shook his head. Hopefully, no news was good news.

Jake and Billy showed up about thirty minutes later, just in time for the terrible news: Harry had died on the operating table. Sue was inconsolable. It still irked me that her kids hadn't showed up. Who did that?

* * *

><p>The next few days were full of condolences and funeral arrangements. Charlie spent the rest of the weekend in La Push and helped Sue out with anything he could, from calling the funeral home to enlisting me to fix some meals. A wake was held Sunday evening on First Beach as the clouds rolled overhead. Some of Harry's ashes were scattered in the Pacific as the tribal elders sang a haunting chant in Quileute.<p>

The wake was the first time since the first bonfire that I'd seen Leah and Seth Clearwater. They looked like hell, but had every right to. Seth had grown at least six inches in just a few months. Both siblings wore their sadness on their faces, but Leah looked gaunt and haunted. It wasn't my place to console her, and even if it was I'd have nothing to offer.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** An early, but short, post. Time has passed and we are rapidly approaching the scene which inspired me to write Black Swan in the first place. I hope y'all will get as much satisfaction out of reading it as I did when I wrote it over a year ago. Things have progressed, and as always, I love to hear your thoughts on where the story is going!


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER EIGHT—PARADISE LOST**

It had been two weeks since Harry's death and things were in a state of utter shit. Edward had attempted to apologize for telling me we shouldn't be friends, but I had no time for that. Angela and Jessica dragged me into going dress shopping for a dance I hadn't the foggiest clue about. They also roped me into buying a slinky, flapper-style black dress that I had no intention of wearing… ever.

Jake had been dodging my phone calls, as well. Any time I called, Billy answered and told me he was either busy or asleep. A month ago we had planned a big hike somewhere between Forks and Hoquiam. It was _supposed_ to happen this weekend. However, if Jake kept being an ass, I'd make it a solo trip.

Charlie was working himself to the bone. There had been a rash of bear attacks since those fuzzy death machines had come out of hibernation. I hadn't even seen him for a few days—our scheduled had clashed: he would come home for a quick nap during the day while I was in school and was gone by the time I returned. The only sign that he came back at all was an empty Tupperware container that I'd filled every morning with some stroganoff or lasagna or whatever creation I'd dreamed up the night before.

The simple truth was that I was lonely and bored. I had unintentionally opened myself up, had allowed other people to control my emotions, my happiness to a degree… and here I was, cross-legged on my bed, sulking. _Well fuck that. _I saved what was left of my dignity from drowning in the mire of self-pity I had created. With some effort, I bucked up and decided what I need was a run.

One quick change into leggings, a jacket and some tennis shoes had me out the door and onto the path that led behind the house to a trail close to the forest's edge. What I wanted was to wear myself out with a good hard run—to flood my body with endorphins—but just as when Jake and I ran two weeks ago, the tiredness never came. Forty-five minutes later, I returned to my house with a barely elevated heart rate and no sweat. Only the sense of being watched joined me as I ran in the shadow of the gigantic trees. The feeling pissed me off, like so many other things had lately. I was a hair trigger waiting to be pulled. The PMS stuff was horseshit.

What was a girl to do on a Saturday night when here only two friends—if you could call them that—in the entire state of Washington were being absolute dicks? I thought of calling Angela, but as my thumb hovered over the 'call' button on my phone, I remembered yesterday's trig class. Shy, bookworm Angela was already in class by the time I arrived and was blushing profusely. I coaxed her to tell me her secret: Ben Cheney had asked her out on a dinner date at the diner, followed by bowling at the local nine-pin lane. Admittedly, it wasn't _my_ idea of romance, but the girl was giddy with excitement.

I showered and stood in front of my closet, clad in nothing but a smile. _What to wear depends on what to do,_ I thought. With one last fleeting look out of my window to check the weather, I grabbed some grey leather pants, a deep blue tunic and my black leather riding jacket, I decided I'd go see what the Port Angeles bar scene had to offer. I still had my fake I.D. from Arizona, which bore the name Isobel Cygnet. Keith, the owner of my garage in Phoenix and one of my better bad influences, had laughed at the play on my real name when he handed me the very genuine looking fake he'd managed to secure for me. That was two weeks before Renee had shipped me up here; the fake was crisp and virginal and ready to be used.

Thankfully, before Jake cut off contact, he dropped Sadie off at my house. I climbed on my baby and revved the engine and sped out of town towards Port Angeles. The ride was a bit chilly; Forks' weather wasn't quite as warm as I would have liked, but I soon reached my destination: a promising looking biker bar.

The place was a total dive… it was perfect. I wasn't even carded as I entered the seedy, dark-lit hole in the wall. It smelled like stale beer and cigarettes and as I perused the place I noticed a bank of pool tables along the far wall across from the bar. If I could find a few suckers, I could make some money tonight.

"Jack, neat," I ordered when I got to the bar. Continuing my perusal, I noticed that I wasn't the only female in the bar, but I was by far the least meth-raggled one. I put down some cash and took my fresh drink to the tables where a game was finishing up.

"Who's next?" I asked the grizzly bear of a man was about the sweep the table.

"Looks like you are, Peach," he rumbled. "Eight ball, corner pocket."

As he sunk the ball into the called hole, I put four quarters into the slider to release the balls and grabbed the rack. As I set up, the few guys that were already gathered around were saying lewd and crass shit about me under their breath. I'd heard it all before, but it still managed to stoke my anger a bit; either they weren't even trying to be secretive about their sexist conversation, or they were too drunk to notice I could hear every word. Honestly, it was probably a combination of the two. I shook off the building heat of irritation, cracked my neck and knuckles and threw back half my drink. I put a twenty down on the edge of the table, which my opponent matched.

The grizzly bear introduced himself as Russ. I studied him as he broke: he was middle-aged, but his face was aged by years of rough living—too much drink and smoke, too little time spent riding with a helmet on. His skin looked like well-worn leather where it peeked out from behind a bushy, red-tinted beard.

I took in the lay of the pool balls as Russ missed a shot. He'd sunk two stripes and a solid on the break, and added another stripe to the tally, but found himself in a bad position to play from. In his defense, he did make a good play to try to keep me from making a shot. He lined the cue ball up about three inches behind one of his stripes with no solids in the immediate area. Feeling pretty secure about his play, he stepped back with a 'your turn, Sugar.'

I moved to the set of motley pool sticks that had all seen better days. Surveying the selection, I picked up a few and felt their balance in my hand before I selected one that was weighted eighteen ounces with no discernable warp or bend. I chalked the nib and lined up directly in line with the cue ball and the solid, which garnered some chuckles.

"Honey, you're stripes," someone said with a chuckle, "_he's _solids."

I shut the peanut gallery up as I jumped the cue ball with some spin on it that sunk the ten and drew back perfectly in line with the twelve and fourteen. The twelve was hit with enough force to sink both balls into the side pocket, where I then banked the cue off a rail to hit the fifteen across the table, through a narrow gap, to the far corner pocket. Another sink, another step around the table. Two stripes, the eleven and lucky number thirteen were left for me to dispose of before I could approach the eight. Thirteen was easy: an oblique angled strike hit it into the other side pocket, and although the cue ball didn't land exactly where I wanted it to, I still managed to sink eleven before I took a look up from the table.

A modest crowd had gathered of ragged and well-traveled guys and gals. Most were staring, some with mouths agape; a few were laughing with surprise. Had they never seen a girl play before? I picked up my drink and downed the last half as I refocused on the task at hand. The eight was in a tricky spot, but I studied my shot as I called out the only pocket that made sense to me.

"Now you're just showing off," Russ grumbled, although I saw a smile behind his unkempt facial hair.

I lined up and hit the cue ball with such force that it ricocheted off of three rails in a wide angle before it hit the eight and pushed it straight into the pocket of my choice. I picked up my forty dollars and stuffed half of it into my right front pocket and ordered another Jack. Warmth was already seeping through my limbs as the alcohol loosened me up just a bit; the tensions of the past few weeks melted ever so slightly.

A challenger appeared from the group of men gathered around the table, a dark black man with raised brands burned into his bare arms of a spade on one side and GA on the other. He matched my twenty with his own and set to racking the balls.

I won three more rounds easily before Russ decided to try his luck again. He was by far the better of my challengers and our second game took longer than any of the others with lots of tricky shots and safe plays. I squeaked out a win after a few tough shots and more than one close call at a scratch. I pulled out my phone to check the time, and surprised myself when I realized it was already approaching one. I thought about staying until last call, but then my mind went to Charlie and how I hadn't even left a note to tell him I'd be back.

We had been on pretty good terms after the initial week of my move. Would he think I had run away? Would he think I was out partying? My truck was there, of course, so if he made it home, he might think that I was in bed, asleep. A couple of times I had awoke in the night to his tired feet as they shuffled around outside my bedroom door before he quietly opened it a crack and peeked in. Unlike when Renee or Phil would do it when I was actually home, the gesture didn't feel intrusive in the least. After a few seconds, Charlie would close the door and move across the small landing to his bedroom and I would hear the soft click of his door as he turned in for the night.

_Of course, _I thought, _I could have dreamed that all up as a brief respite from my otherwise odd and tense dreams of late. _

My room always did smell of honey and lilac and something specifically _Edward _when I woke for those brief minutes before sleep overcame me once more. I had to have been dreaming. Still, the thought of Charlie sobered me fully and I called it quits for the night.

I took my winnings, eighty bucks in total, and left the bartender a generous tip as I made my way out into the brisk air. A few members of the peanut gallery were chain smoking against the outer wall, and as I stepped toward Sadie to grab my helmet, I heard them drop their cigarette butts and stomp them out before they approached me from behind. Three of them made a semicircle about five feet from me as I turned around to face them.

"That's a nice lookin' bike you got there, little girl," one of the drunkards slurred.

"Looks a little much for someone as small as you," another quipped in a low rumble.

I heard a fourth approach my turned back as the third man, one I'd beat handily at the pool table spoke in turn.

"You don't look like such a shark out here," he remarked. "Out here, you're really more of a kitten."

"Really?" I asked sarcastically. "Three on one is hardly fair for you. Why don't you call some more of your boys to make me tremble in my boots."

As the third man took another step closer, I lashed out with a kick to his left knee and landed a blow that put him on the ground. There was a reason I wore my boots to the bars: steel toed and thick soled, they made a formidable weapon if necessary. The two others in front of me drunkenly rallied to their friend's defense, but were dealt with in quick succession with another kick to the knee and an elbow to a nose.

What I hadn't counted on was the fourth man to be so stupid as to approach me after he saw what fate his friends had met. What I especially hadn't thought of was that he would rush me, grab me by the neck and place a knife menacingly to my stomach.

"One move, and I gut you like a fish," he breathed into my ear.

_Fuck._

Adrenaline flooded my system as I tried to figure a way out of the shit hole I'd unintentionally fallen into. The knife blade was mostly flat against my covered stomach. Only the very tip was pointed into me, which would mean that at most I would get a flesh wound if I acted quickly. My arms were at my sides, while he had one hand around my neck, fingers over my throat, and the other arm, his right, outside of mine. I could potentially flip his knife-wielding arm out of the way with enough room to duck out and kick him in the balls. My mind analyzed this in a split second, but before I could act on the impulse, the knife was away from my torso and the hand around my windpipe slackened.

"Bella, move," a feral voice growled. Edward Cullen's voice. Edward?

I turned around in a flash and saw him. He looked like a predator, there was no better way to describe it. His hand crushed the wrist it was wrapped around and my attacker's knife fell to the ground as he grunted. I kicked it out of the way and into a storm drain.

"You're lucky I don't kill you where you stand," Edward growled.

He pushed the sorry scumbag to the ground with such force that I heard a 'pop' as the son of a bitch's shoulder popped out of socket. The group scattered down the street and into the night. After a second, I turned to my rescuer, thankful he had been there. Then, my brain reengaged.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"Normally, a damsel in distress would thank her rescuer," he joked. He didn't fool me; I could still see the tension in his eyes.

"I wasn't in distress," I corrected, "I had it covered."

"From where I'm standing, he was about to eviscerate you."

"The knife was flat against me," I insisted. "I could have easily knocked his arm out of the way and escaped."

"How can you be so nonchalant about this?" he asked. "You must be in shock. Let me take you to the hospital."

"I'm _fine!_" I stressed. "I'm not in shock, look: my hand is steady as a rock. It's not my first rodeo."

He seemed taken aback by that last statement; his mind put the pieces together correctly: I had had some skirmishes in Phoenix, though none were as close of a call as this one. I wasn't going to fill him in on _that_ little detail.

"Bella, you have… no _idea_ what those lowlifes were thinking."

"Oh, and you do?" I sassed back. "You still didn't answer my original question: What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

He said nothing.

"You followed me here, didn't you?"

Again, nothing.

"_Why_ did you follow me?" I asked.

"I feel… protective of you," he admitted.

"Well, stop it. I don't want or need your protection!" I yelled at him. My anger was rising again, though it never fully went away.

"Bella," he began, "I care ab—"

"SHUT UP!" I yelled. "If you cared, you wouldn't have told me we shouldn't be friends! If you cared, you…"

I trailed off… he what? What should he have done? What did I want him to do?

"Just because I said we shouldn't be friends, doesn't mean that I don't want to," he said quietly.

"Then why would you say it?"

"I'm not… I'm dangerous."

"I deal with dangerous situations regularly," I scoffed, gesturing to the surrounding area.

"I could hurt you, Bella," he pled.

_You already have,_ I wanted to say. _I'm hurting. I want to be near you, with you. _

That thought brought me up short. When had I ever thought that about anyone? When had I ever thought that about Edward? But I knew it was true—I felt it in my bones. I wanted to be with Edward Cullen. The reality of that truth scared me. Needing someone was akin to exposing my neck to vicious, man-eating lion. Here! I'm yours for the taking! Break me apart! I wasn't about to let that happen. I was _not_ a vulnerable person.

I wanted to say it didn't matter. I _wanted_ to be a normal girl for once—to swoon and be held and doted on.

"Then don't," I said instead, defeated. "Just leave me alone."

I grabbed my helmet and climbed on my bike. Edward turned back towards his still-running Volvo and followed me all the way back to Forks. He even followed me to my house, but turned around and drove to his home and his perfect family that I could never be apart of. I lurched up the stairs to my bedroom, physically and emotionally spent.

My bed was a welcome sight, rumpled and unmade as it was. I stepped out of my boots, stripped out of my clothes and put on an old, oversized T-shirt. I was on fire, my skin so sensitive to touch. I threw open the window, welcomed the cool March night air. The covers were too much for my overheated skin to handle. I threw them to the bottom of the bed against the footboard and sprawled out. A single tear escaped the confines of my left eye and rolled across my cheek. I was asleep before it dropped off my chin onto the pillow.

* * *

><p>It was early in the morning—too early. I was disoriented. <em>Think, Bella.<em> I was in my bed. My blankets were up around my shoulders. I thought I'd divested myself of them last night? Honey and lilac invaded my nostrils, though I had had a blissfully silent mind through the night. My eyes were puffy. Had I cried in my sleep? That was the only reasonable explanation.

One thing that had solidified in my mind through my sleep was this: I promised myself, then and there, that I would stay away from Edward Cullen, I would stay away from Jacob Black, I would stay away from any emotion. I would get through this school year and the next, graduate and go… where? I was too smart to not go to college. Keith would always welcome me back to Phoenix and give me a job at the garage, but was that what I wanted? I didn't know. Maybe I could apply to schools in England, completely get away. My grades and record would have to be flawless, and even then it would be a long shot.

Whatever I ended up doing, I needed to put my head down and focus. Something had shifted inside of me and I was going to be better, for me.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER NINE – BIG CHANGES**

Edward was running through my mind all day, no matter how much I willed myself to think of something, _anything_ else. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday had passed with my resolve strong. I was not going to talk to him. I was going to leave him alone, for both our sakes. I was better than pining after some guy, no matter how oddly good looking he was.

But if that was true, why did I feel like there was a thin string of yarn connecting the pit of my stomach to the boy in question? I swore I could feel whenever he entered the room without the need to so much as look up from my desk. I _felt _his presence. That feeling grew stronger every day. Even when I woke too early in the mornings, I had this feeling of loss so real I could swear he had just been there.

Of course he had, in my dreams. They had morphed from the running forest dreams to more sedate ones: Edward and I riding around in my truck or his Volvo; Edward and I laying on the floor of my bedroom, laughing at something I never could remember; Edward and I in a passionate embrace. I didn't know why these dreams had started to plague me, when a week ago I could ignore him as if he was a bug on the sole of my shoe.

In other news, I was getting sick. This stupid, temperamental Washington weather had thrown me for a loop and now I was coming down with a cold, I was certain—strep and the flu were runners up on my WebMD list of afflictions. Next was cancer. I was hot and cold and trembling all at the same time, and I was tired of it.

Thursday and Friday passed in a blur, as Jessica and Angela were anxiously preparing for the dance on Friday night. The dance I had bought a dress for, but had no intention of attending.

"Come on, Bella!" Jessica had whined. "You bought a dress! That means you _have_ to go!"

"No, that means I bought a dress and it will look great in my closet for all of eternity," I had responded.

"But…" she tried to change tactics.

"I don't dance, and I don't attend school functions," I told her succinctly. "Conversation over."

And then there I was, in the same situation I was in last Saturday: nothing to do. Although Jake had called me to apologize about his absenteeism of late, I had let it go to voicemail. I was going to stick with my plan of attack: no friends, focus on school, get away.

I decided that despite my feeling like a balloon full of Jell-O, I should go on the hike Jake and I had planned. Why shouldn't I, after all? Maybe it was just the thing to clear my mind. I looked outside at the sun, which was threatening to make itself known through the clouds. It was only ten in the morning; I had plenty of time to get out to the trailhead I had decided on and hike for a few hours with plenty of daytime left.

Half an hour later, my bag was packed with water, some trail mix and a can of bear mace, just in case. I left a note for Charlie and loaded into my truck to head up the one-oh-one. A smile crept up my face as I drove down the almost deserted road with the windows down and the feel of the wind tugging at my hair. I knew this was what I needed: something to change up the monotony of my life: a literal change of scenery, if only for a little while, to refresh my soul.

As I climbed out of my truck at the trailhead, I checked the laces of my never-before-used hiking boots and shrugged on my little backpack. I followed the trail for about thirty minutes before the sound of a bubbling stream drew me westward. I was fairly certain I could find my way back on my own, but just in case, Charlie's extra GPS device was nestled in the front pocket of my backpack, ready for use at any time.

The air was clean and fresh, and even a little sweet as I took in a deep breath of forest air. Already, I felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted that I hadn't known I was carrying. I found the stream and marked a tree with a few sticks crossed at the base to remind me where I had turned. I followed along the stream for a ways, ambled across it at a shallow point; after a while, I emerged into a beautiful clearing, a circular meadow with the earliest blooming wildflowers strewn about the area in random beauty. I could rest here, even though I wasn't tired. I could stop for a snack and take in the serenity.

Just as I had taken off my pack and hunched down to unzip it, I heard a crack of something stepping on a twig or branch in the underbrush. I was immediately on alert and moved to get the bear mace.

"You know, they say little girls shouldn't go into the woods alone," a voice from behind me said.

"Yes, did you ever hear the story of Little Red Riding Hood?" another voice said, somewhere to my right.

I whipped around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voices.

"Oh, look," a third voice said, right behind me, "a snack."

I turned around again; this time I found a body to match the voice. A tall, blonde man wearing jeans and a denim vest stood in the clearing. What was he doing here? I was pissed off that he was toying with me. Nobody toyed with me.

"Where'd you get the Canadian tuxedo, asshole?" I sneered.

"Ooh, this one's feisty," the second, high-pitched voice said from my right. Emerging out of the trees was a redheaded chick that looked even more bizarre than the first guy. A third person joined the two, another man with dark hair.

"You want to fight, bitch?" I asked, suddenly itching for a fight.

Then, out of nowhere, Edward was in the clearing with Alice and Jasper. Edward stepped in front of me, protective. Rationally, I knew he was doing me a favor, coming to my aide, but I couldn't control the anger that was spiraling out of control.

"How the hell did you get here?" I asked, my ever-present anger rising to near boiling point.

"Later," he said under his breath, not even bothering to look at me. Gah, that made me mad!

"This area is already claimed," Jasper said.

That little phrase did me in. I literally felt that my skin was on fire, my blood boiling. I couldn't seem to calm myself down! I'd never been so mad in all of my life; this anger was tearing me apart… literally. I felt my skin tear, the pain excruciating, as my vision sharpened and shifted to a higher vantage point.

_What the fuck? _I thought. The same thought was echoed in my head, from several different voices. _Ah, shit, I've gone crazy. _

All of the people in the clearing- good and bad alike- looked at me like I'd grown another head.

"What?" I'd meant to say, but it only came out as a bark.

_A bark? What in the hell is going on?_

_Bella? _A voice in my head asked. _Is that you?_

_Of course it's me, voice in my head. Geez, you'd think that my schizophrenic personalities would know whose head they're residing in._

_Bella, it's Jake. _Jake's voice in my head said.

_Oh, hey Jake! _I thought back. _How did you get in my head? Am I hallucinating? Did I even wake up this morning?_

But of course, it didn't _feel_ like I was hallucinating. Everything felt very real, bizarre as it was.

_You're not hallucinating, Bells. Just hold on, we'll be there in a second. _

I tuned back into the heated conversation going on around me. I took a deep breath to speak again, but coughed instead after inhaling the most sickeningly sweet smell I'd ever smelled. It was like a more horrible version of burning caramel. I whined, trying to cover my nose with my hands. Instead of my little hand, a snowy white paw came up and bopped me on the nose.

I heard footfalls like horses running, both inside my head and behind me. Apparently, the people in the clearing heard them, too, because we all turned to see what was coming. Huge wolves, three of them, came into the clearing, and without warning, jumped on my would-be attackers. I saw—both with my own eyes and in my head closer up—the carnage that was wrought.

The blonde male was a goner, as a large russet-colored wolf immediately set upon him before he could react, tearing his head from his shoulders with only his teeth. Where there should have been blood, there was none, only a sickening metallic screech like some strongman tearing a piece of steel with his hands. The other, dark-haired male was also doomed, as a pure black wolf the size of a horse grabbed him by the thigh and ripped his leg off before dispatching with his head. A smoky silver wolf was chasing after the woman, and although he got a chunk out of her side, she managed to escape into the woods and disappear.

I looked back toward the growing pile of bloodless man-limbs, lay down on my …four paws… and whined. The adrenaline from everything that had happened was wearing off, as was my anger. I didn't know what had happened, but I wasn't mad anymore, just scared. I could hear everything the voices in my head thought, but I realized now that they were coming from these huge wolves. The wolves were people: Jake and Sam and Paul. And I had hit myself with a white paw when I went to cover my nose, which meant that I was a wolf. Either I had passed out and was having the weirdest dream, or somebody needed to do some explaining… and now.

_Give me a minute, Bells. _Jake's voice said. _I'll tell you everything, I promise._

"Need a light?" Jasper asked, slowly approaching the pack of wolves with a match.

The russet-colored wolf nodded its head, ran into the woods and came back as Jacob, pulling up his pants a little. He grabbed the match from Jasper and moved to strike it against a rock on the ground. Taking the match, he walked quickly over to the pile of body parts and touched it to a hand, which immediately caught fire and set the rest of the pile to smoldering in a matter of seconds.

"Thanks for that," Jake said to the Cullens. "But I need to know why you were here, across treaty lines."

"We've been keeping tabs on Bella," Jasper began. "Edward has, or I should say, _had_ a special connection to her."

"What kind of connection?" Jake asked, all business.

"A mating," Alice spoke up. "I've been trying to keep tabs on her, but I could never _see_ her properly, only her surroundings. I saw the forest, this clearing, but then everything went black. We were concerned for her safety. Obviously, something strange is afoot." She nodded towards me. "We'll go now, and leave you to sort this mess out."

Jake nodded and the Cullens departed. Edward lingered for a minute longer, taking a long, pained look at me before departing. The string I had felt toward him had transformed into a huge steel cable since I had… morphed? into this new body. His departure caused the cable to tighten and a pain to form in the center of my torso, near my heart.

"Bella," Jake said softly, approaching me slowly. I whined in response. "I want you to try to calm down. Think about something calming, like riding your bike and the feel of the wind on your face. Can you do that?"

I did as I was told, completely envisioning myself on Sadie; I got lost in the vision. I could feel the wind on my face, the whipping of my hair behind me… and suddenly, I was shrinking back to normal size. Everything hurt, and I cried out in pain. Jacob offered me a t-shirt while looking behind me. When I took the shirt, I realized why: I was naked. I quickly put on the shirt, which was more like a dress on me, glad to have something to cover up with. I tried to stand up, but winced in pain.

"Slowly, slowly, Bells," Jake cooed.

"What happened?" I asked. "Why does it feel like I've just spent ten hours on the rack?"

"I think we should head to La Push," Jake said evasively. "We all need to get some questions answered here."

"But, my truck!" I protested, knowing full well that I was in no condition to drive it.

"Shh," Jake comforted. "Paul, shift and find Bella's truck at the trailhead. Drive it back to Old Quil's house; that's where we'll be. Get my father, too."

The dark silver wolf trotted off the way I had come and was soon out of sight. Jake picked me up and carried my small form through the forest, while the black wolf—Sam—stayed close by. We arrived at Old Quil's house thirty minutes later. I still felt like I had been tortured, but the level of pain was minutely less. Jake walked in the front door with me still in his arms, not bothering to knock.

Old Quil was sitting on an old rocker, chatting with Billy, whose wheelchair was next to the older man's chair. Paul was lounging on an old, worn couch; Sam walked in not long after we did. Jacob sat me carefully on the opposite end of the couch, where I curled up as much as possible, whimpering in pain.

"Did you tell them anything?" Jacob asked Paul.

"Nope," Paul responded, "I figured you'd want to have her here before anything was said."

"You were right," Jake said to Paul before turning to the two old men. "Do either of you care to explain how Bella Swan shifted?"

"She did _what_?" Old Quil asked, astonished.

"She fursploded in the middle of the forest while we were on patrol," Paul offered. "Can't really blame her, when she was surrounded by vamps."

"Surrounded by whats?" I asked.

"Leeches, bloodsuckers, fangers," Paul offered up again, before clarifying: "_Vampires_."

It sounded like a load of crap; logic made me want to laugh at him and call him crazy, but it _felt_ true. And hell, if I could be a wolf, what's to say that the Cullens and those creepy people that found me in the woods weren't vampires?

"Back to the more pressing subject: how can Charlie Swan's daughter, someone completely unrelated to the pack, turn into a wolf?" Jake was looking at his elders, looking for an answer that I needed as well.

"Jake," Billy began cautiously, "there are some things, that no matter how they are explained, cannot be fully understood by anybody who was not involved."

"Dad," Jake warned.

"I never knew this would happen," Billy sighed, cradling his head in his hands. "You're going to want to sit down, Jacob, and for everybody's sake, if you feel yourself losing your calm, you need to leave."

"Get to the point, Dad," Jake said through gritted teeth.

Billy sighed again. Old Quil put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Paul looked disinterested and Sam looked uncomfortable, like he shouldn't be in the room.

"First of all, let it be known that I loved your mother dearly until the day she died," Billy said. "I love her still. I am not a perfect man. I was only unfaithful to your mother once… I had gone to Charlie's to pick something up; I don't even know what it was now. Renee answered the door in only a robe. She had just gotten out of the shower. She told me Charlie had been called into the station—he was a new cop back then, fresh from training at the academy, and he was called in to man the station for someone who had called in sick.

"She seduced me; that's not to say I was an unwilling participant, or that it excuses my actions. I'm ashamed of what I did, what we did. And then a month later, Renee found out she was pregnant. She didn't know who the father was, whether the baby was Charlie's or mine. She became increasingly nervous as the pregnancy progressed. What if it came out looking like me?

"When she was eight months pregnant, she split town. Nobody heard from her for three years; Charlie was fraught with worry, and then went through a period of depression when he was served with divorce papers from a lawyer in Phoenix. Through the divorce proceedings, he found out that Renee had given birth to a daughter, Isabella Marie Swan. Swan! I thought that meant that the baby had to have been Charlie's.

"In the negotiations of the divorce, Charlie was granted partial custody, and Isabella came to stay with him for a few weeks in the summer, and then for Thanksgiving. I noticed she was a little more tan than either parent, but not by much. I attributed it to her spending most of her time in the sun in Arizona. But her eyes…" he paused his confession for a second and looked to Jacob, then to me with pain in his eyes. Jake was vibrating, his fists balled up at his sides. "You have my eyes."

"So wait a minute," I said, ignoring the pain I was in along with my undress as I stepped forward accusingly toward Billy. "You're telling me—us—that you had an affair with my mom? And that I am the result of that affair?"

"There was always a chance that you were Charlie's," Billy said. "But _this_… this is irrefutable proof…"

"So you're my father?" I asked, incredulously. "No, no. Charlie Swan is my dad. You're his best friend! Jacob is only six months younger than me you sick bastard! You knocked two women up at the same time?!"

I was fuming, my body humming, so alive in my rage.

"Bella," Sam said quietly, "you need to try to calm down. You don't want to shift right now, not in this living room."

"I can't control it, Sam," I whined, my anger dissipating, being replaced with fear. "Help me…"

Jake turned towards me, away from his father—my biological father—and grabbed me in a bone-shattering hug. He moved us out of the house, down the back porch steps and into the forest where I promptly fursploded, as Paul put it. I howled out my anger and sadness; Jake joined me shortly thereafter.

As he howled, his thoughts and memories flooded into my mind: his first shift, where Sam and Paul found him and told him he wasn't losing his mind. Next he showed me the history of the pack, the one I had heard before but not believed, and why they were made in the first place: to destroy the Cold Ones—Vampires. He showed me all of his memories of us playing as kids: making mud pies and fishing and that one time when Rachel and Rebecca dressed us up and had a pretend marriage ceremony.

_Wow,_ I thought, _that's pretty fucked up now that we know we're siblings. _

Jake's mental voice laughed as his wolf form tried to do the same, but only ended up sounding like he was coughing.

He continued his mental rundown of more recent events: when Sam told him he was the rightful Alpha, as Ephraim Black's heir. Jake telling Sam he didn't want that responsibility and that Sam could keep the role. Finally, after another ten minutes of the mental slide show, the images slowed down.

_I guess we should head back inside,_ Jake said reluctantly. _There's some more information that we need. We didn't even know females could shift until Leah did; it's never happened before. Also, you're smaller than we are; you didn't go through a growth spurt before your shift, while the rest of us did. We've got to figure out what this means for you and Charlie and we need to work you into our patrol schedule._

_Sure thing, _I said. _Can you do me a favor though? I think I'm going to need another shirt…_

Jake shifted and walked into the house coming out with another oversized t-shirt that smelled like Paul. He left it on a branch and walked back inside, allowing me some privacy as I visualized my happy place in order to shift back into my human self. It was almost too painful for me to bear, but bear it I did, and I grabbed the t-shirt, slipping it on before I walked back into Old Quil's house.

"What do the legends say about this, Old Quil?" Jake asked as I walked in.

"There are no tales of female protectors, you know this from our discussion of Leah Clearwater," he admitted, "nor of anyone who could skin change that was not a full-blooded Quileute."

"So am I going to hit some crazy growth spurt and grow twelve inches?" I asked.

"We don't know," Billy said, looking me in the eyes. "I'm so sorry you've been brought into this, but I am not sorry that you're here. I may be your biological father, but Charlie is your dad and what we've learned doesn't change that."

I nodded my agreement. Charlie and I had grown extremely close in the past three months—he was my dad, no matter what anyone said.

"Everyone here, and the rest of the Pack, will keep this secret. No one else will know that you aren't Charlie Swan's daughter," Old Quil said authoritatively. "You will continue to live with Charlie as well as continue going to Forks High School."

"I'll call the rest of the pack for a meeting to let them get to know our newest member," Sam said.

"Can it wait 'til tomorrow?" I asked. "I'm really tired. I just want to go home and get some sleep."


End file.
